Worlds Collide
by nomdeplume1313
Summary: Roy and Ed have started a life together with their twins, Wrath and other characters finding lives of their own, but an old evil threatens it all. Sequel to For Her. For Him. And yes, this is yaoi, with more than one pairing. And yes, it is now complete.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:This is a sequel to my story For Her. For Him. It is definitely a work in progress and I can't guarantee the updates will come as fast as the last story, but I will try. For those who didn't read the last story, I have included summaries both for new readers and refreshers for those who read my last one. _

_Yes, this is a follow-up to an MPreg, but I established in the last story it was a rare situation that allowed Ed to be a surrogate for Riza and Roy's babies, incorporating his own DNA into them. It is mentioned and an accepted fact in this story, with occassional mentions, mostly this chapter. I didn't include the MPreg warning because it isn't an actual event in this story. If you don't like that Ed was the one who delivered the two babies, please don't flame me, just don't read. _

_Riza died in the last story, and I will try to include the major differences directly into the story. Next chapter will be a lemon, I promise. I thought it would make it in this one, but I was wrong. _

_Also, I don't own or profit from these characters._

**Chapter 1 **

_**Just Like Every Morning **_

_**Amestris**_

Ed loved mornings, not caring that each and every one he woke up the same way each and every time, Roy's arm wrapped around his waist (sometimes his own around Roy's), their bodies pressed together. Ed had never been one for cuddling, but his husband apparently was, and the teen supposed it was rubbing off on him. Ed, despite a general dislike for mornings, now always woke up just a bit early, before Roy's alarm went off, before the babies' morning feeding. It had started as a way to get some peace and quiet, using the fifteen or so minutes before the still-new fuhrer roused, stumbling around for his uniform and paperwork he'd left unfinished from the day before. To enjoy those moments before one, then two babies were crying for their morning bottle, before Al rose from his bed in the room down the hall to help, always the conscientious—and tall, damn it—brother, before Roy tried to make breakfast, splattering something on the uniform he should have put on _after_ trying to fry bacon.

Ed took these moments when he could get them before the day had begun, gathering his thoughts. These were his moments to himself, where he could smile happily at the thought of his spouse or their children, or his human younger brother. Or, he could think back on the people he'd lost, some of whom had sacrificed themselves for his own sake, Teacher, Marta, Maes, Riza, Scar, Lust, and Wrath.

Today, it was the boy who occupied Ed's thoughts. Trying as hard as he could, the teen couldn't shake the image of the young homunculus willingly crossing through the gate for Al's sake, for the sake of the babies, which seemed to be the gate's first choice of a sacrifice for Al's body. Ed knew how much Wrath had hated the Gate—Ed had nearly been killed for mentioning it when they'd first encountered one another—yet the only expression on the young homunculus's face had been that of resolve. Perhaps it had been Izumi's death, his own attachment to Ed—which never would have happened if the alchemist had been in control of his own emotions and actions when they first met—or maybe, it had been the information that he was not going to become human, no matter what or how hard they tried.

Whatever it had been, Wrath had been certain about crossing through the gate. Ed only wished he had the same determination the homunculus had at that moment. But, as he thought to himself, he knew that had he been an option as a viable sacrifice for his brother, he might have done the same.

Thankfully, he would never have to know.

Ed slid out from beneath Roy's arm, placing a kiss above the man's good eye, very near the patch that rarely left Roy's face. It didn't matter how often Ed told Roy that he didn't mind the scars or the false eye, something in the fuhrer wouldn't allow himself to be seen by anyone, not even Ed, without it.

The blond moved to the closet, pulling out something comfortable, looking at the black leather pants, black shirt and red coat hanging at the rear of the closet. Smiling to no one in particular, he reminded himself of what his plans were for that outfit. Ed pulled off the white tank-top he'd slept in, tossing it into the laundry basket nearby. He caught his reflection in the floor-length mirror, which Roy, pervert that he was, had angled just slightly toward the bed sometime last night. His body was back intact, at least as intact as it would ever be, automail still present, scars still there, but the stomach, the chest, they had returned to normal, better than normal. His body reflected that he was almost a year older since the babies had started to turn his taut, muscular form to flab and stretched skin.

Thankfully, it all looked normal again, except for the hips. They'd never go back, but what the hell did he care? There were far too many things to be grateful for to worry about a set of wide hips: he'd been able to act as surrogate for Roy and Riza's babies and have those babies become as much his as theirs, he'd managed to carry them because of an alchemic transmutation that didn't decide to make the other changes more permanent, and he and Roy had overcome the struggle to admit their feelings for one another, something which Ed to this day was sure would never have happened without a catalyst to push them together. Wide hips were a small price to pay

Ed put on the blue shirt he'd pulled out of the closet, pulling out the Flamel necklace from beneath his shirt. Roy had given it to him before their first date, and it had hardly left his body since. He pulled his blond hair into a quick ponytail, not taking the time to braid it, since it was a mess and tangled at the moment. The teen glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping man on their bed, cursing him silently for pulling it out of the braid last night. For the sake of Roy being able to wrap his fingers in it, Ed was going to go through hell this morning brushing it out.

Ed pulled down the boxers, replacing them with a new pair, pulling on a pair of denim jeans, walking out of the bedroom only to be greeted by a very happy Black Hayate, who had taken to sleeping each night at the couple's door. He rubbed the large dog on his head, watching as the large dark eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets in contentment at the sensation of his automail hand scratching between the dog's ears. He closed the door, practically counting out the five seconds it usually took before Black Hayate had his paws on his shoulders and was lapping at his face. The teen was grateful the dog was finally done growing, now that he was equal to the blond in height when he was on his hind legs.

With the large pet in tow, Ed went to the nursery, poking his head in to make sure the three-month-old babies

were both sleeping, and once satisfied, he walked by his brother's room, hearing the faint sound of snoring, even through the wooden door. Ed pitied the woman who married his brother. While Ed found the sound of Al's loud snores endearing because Al hadn't been able to sleep or breathe for so long, he seriously doubted if he had to share a bed with the sixteen-year-old, he'd find it so enjoyable.

The young alchemist made his way downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing the pot he and Roy had just resigned to leave on the back burner. He filled it up with fresh water, turned on the gas stove and began boiling the water, knowing it was far better just to get this started before he had two demanding children needing to be fed. On top of the icebox, her favorite place, Ed saw Carlida, their calico cat, though she was more Ed's than even Al's. While Ed removed a can of formula from the nearby cupboard, he watched as the cat held her eyes together tightly, an attempt at mimicking sleep.

"Still mad at me for last night?" he said as he placed two triangular openings in the can and poured it into two bottles that had been sitting upside down on a towel by the sink. "You know Roy doesn't like having an audience, even if it's only you or Black Hayate." Remembering the mirror, Ed thought to himself that Fuhrer Mustang didn't mind getting a show while he performed, however.

Ed placed the two bottles in the water while he went to let Black Hayate outside. He wasn't quite sure when it had happened or how, but somewhere along the line, he'd become just as domesticated as the two animals. Though Roy had never said it aloud, Ed knew it had to please the hell out of the fuhrer.

So domesticated had Ed become that it was only a mild irritation that he was beginning to feel like the woman in this relationship.

At that thought, he heard the first of the morning cries. This time Nicholas. By the time Ed got the two bottles, ensured the formula was warm enough without being too warm, he heard Aideen crying too, as well as the sound of the obnoxious bells of Roy's alarm. Morning was here and his day had started, whether he was ready for it or not.

0o0o0

_**London**_

Wrath slept huddled in the tiny crawlspace near the attic at the orphanage. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened to him, how he'd been forced to live over the last three months. The other version of himself, which he was certain was what he'd heard when he first awoke in London, said he wanted to die. At first, Wrath hadn't understood why this Ulysses, a person who looked and sounded exactly like him would be so willing to give up on living.

Then he'd seen the eleven-year-old's life.

It wasn't as though Wrath couldn't handle it. He was more than capable of fighting the older boys, even with a body that was nowhere near as strong as the homunculus one he'd left behind. He could fight them off with Ulysses' pathetically skinny, non-muscular frame because he knew how to fight. He knew what to do whenever the older boys cornered him for whatever devious purposes they had in mind. Wrath had never been so thankful of Envy as he'd been when he found he was already accustomed to fighting a much more skilled opponent than these twelve and thirteen-year-olds.

It had been when some of their attacks became physical in a different nature that Wrath found himself at a loss for how to handle himself. He didn't try to fight, just ran the hell away and stayed away any time he might be left alone with these boys.

Much of the time, there was an adult somewhere, even if the adult didn't really give a damn about what happened to them, they usually didn't approve of the boys trying to use Wrath in that manner, one time hearing the lady who ran the bakery say it went against moral values and was a mortal sin.

Under other circumstances, Wrath might have argued that they were small-minded idiots and that in even his short existence, he'd gotten to see two couples very devoted to one another, one being his mother and Sig, or would it be father?, the other Ed and Roy. One of those couples would have been accepted in this world, the other would not, yet Wrath didn't seem able to understand why. Aside from the familiarity of many years together, there were very few differences between the two, and normally, he would have defended the two men.

But now… now he heartily joined in on the choruses of "it's sinful, it's wrong, it will condemn you to hell"—wherever hell was—as long as it kept him from being a forced participant.

Rising well before dawn, Wrath climbed out of the crawlspace, moving to the main bedroom where the other orphans were still asleep, Wrath found one of the pails of water and rags to clean himself off, first breaking through the layer of ice on the top, then leaving to start morning chores, to get them accomplished before the other boys arose so that he could get a few minutes to himself to train, to exercise before breakfast. He was determined to get this body to the best physical shape he could on what they were feeding him, and get the hell out.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy sat at his desk in Central, glad that most of the moving in was finally done. He didn't really want the spot, but he'd taken it, what the hell, he was Fuhrer Mustang now. Still, he was content with his old office and old window. This one was too big, too regal, and provided far too much distraction when the man wanted to procrastinate.

He watched with a grimace as Vato Falman walked into his office, stack of folders in his arms. "Here you go, all for your attention."

"Lieutenant, remind me again why I wanted to be fuhrer?"

"I believe it was something about making this country a better place."

"I was out of my mind."

Falman chuckled good-naturedly as he let the huge stack of folders thump down on Roy's mahogany desk.

"How are the babies?"

"Sleeping a little more through the night, thankfully," Roy said as he ran a hand through his hair, brushing along the band of the patch.

"And Ed?"

"Being a surprisingly good sport about being the one at home with the kids, but that's mostly because he didn't want a nanny." Honestly, Roy hadn't either, but he'd have accepted it because it wasn't fair to Ed to keep him cooped up at the house all day. "And he has Al there to help him, and Winry should be here in Central in about an hour, so it's not as though I'm leaving him alone."

Roy pulled the first folder off of his desk and opened it, glancing over the requests that Prime Minister Hakuro had put in for the construction of the new parliament building. Roy disliked having to ask the man to serve as the first Prime Minister until the position could become an elected office, but the former General had been next in line for the position of fuhrer and the colonel, in a massive rebellion, had managed to usurp the title from his grasp. It was small consolation for the older man, but as Roy kept reminding him, the country would always remember the first Prime Minister even if twenty followed and all were forgotten in between, the first would be remembered. For all Roy knew, he could go down in history as the man who appointed a Prime Minister and parliament and be forgotten for all else.

Checking over the budget requests, Roy X-ed off a few items, adding that where the design for the seats in the Parliament was suggested to be oak, Roy opted for pine unless the new prime minister was willing to recycle material, as Roy had by merely moved his desk from his former office to the new one, more than willingly giving away the bastard fuhrer's piece of furniture.

"Have you gotten the reports from General Armstrong of the rebuilding of Lior?" he asked Falman.

"See that thick one near the bottom?"

"Why does that man have to insist on overdoing everything?"

"Because otherwise he wouldn't be Armstrong. Don't worry too much about the size of the file. It is mostly of photos of statues he's made of himself throughout Lior." Roy looked at the older man disapprovingly. He wasn't supposed to read the reports from Roy's soldiers. "They fell out, sir. You know I wouldn't read classified files."

"For someone who isn't an egomaniac," Roy said, "I have never seen someone so in love with himself as Alex Armstrong."

"There are a few shots in there of statues he created of a certain doctor who traveled down there with him."

Roy disregarded the folder from Hakuro to grab the encyclopedia-sized report. Flipping through the stacks of photos of bronze statues of Armstrong and marble statues of Armstrong, and stone Armstrong supporting awnings over buildings, he finally found it. Shots of reconstructed buildings with female figures gracing the walls, figures that looked distinctly like Raine Mustang, Roy's older sister.

Falman seemed to be trying not to smile. "I am sure that the general must be excited, joining the illustrious Armstrong and Mustang lines, hearing Armstrong tradition stories at every holiday and family gathering."

Roy shuddered at the thought.

0o0o0o0

Ed laid on the floor on his stomach, Aideen across from him in the same position. The dark-haired little baby raised her head to look at him as he did the same, pressing his forehead to her fair one. She smiled at him, tongue half-out.

"Brother, I'm going to go change Nicholas. Does Aideen need changing?"

"Thanks, Al. No." Ed looked Aideen in those eyes like molten lava. "You don't stink, do you?" The little girl's smile broadened. He helped her roll onto her back, while he did what amounted to push-ups over her body, kissing her soft little face, pressing their noses to one another. Aideen tried to look around with those almond-shaped eyes, but seeing her difficulty, Ed scooped her fidgety little body into his arms, laid on his back, knees up and let her rest against the support of his legs.

Working out had taken on this form for Ed for the last few months, using the excuse of playing with the babies as a way to improve his abs or his arms. Ed joked with his brother that they were probably the most painful piece of exercise equipment to get, but knowing that each time he raised his head doing sit-ups, arms never releasing their hold on the baby, he got a smile and an occasional laugh, was enough of a reason to do it again. He could do a thousand sit-ups this way, as Aideen grabbed for his face, chubby little hands grasping at his nose and bangs.

Then Aideen, overly excited, leaned her head forward, smacking it with a thud against the bridge of Ed's nose. It brought tears to the blond's eyes and Aideen started crying almost immediately. "You're crying? That was just your forehead," Ed said, fighting away the stinging tears as he scooped his little girl into his arms and held her against him. Then, as the crying seemed certain to get worse, it stopped almost all together. Ed held his daughter in his automail hand, wiping away the tears on her face with his left, looking at how calm her eyes looked. "I didn't mean you had to stop all at once." Those eyes narrowed, glaring at him. "What? You're mad at me because _you_ slammed your head into mine?" The tiny scowl remained, but all Ed could do was laugh at how strange it looked on her little features. With her parents, why was he so surprised she could manage to look at him with such tiny venom for the little accident?

0o0o0o0

_**London**_

Wrath charged through the streets of London, deciding that his time to run away was today, as the boys had nearly had him cornered, for a beating or something else, he didn't know, nor did he have any plans of finding out. It wasn't as though he was the only boy on the streets, he wouldn't be noticed. It was just that he'd hoped to have a plan before he charged out on his own.

Looking over his shoulder, he ran directly into a taller blond, slamming himself to the street, and sending the young man staggering backwards.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" the older teen asked, holding out a hand to Wrath, but the stubborn boy didn't take it, deciding to stand on his own.

"I'm fine." He looked up, seeing blond hair, strange golden brown eyes—practically a very familiar shade of gold from another time, another place. "ED! What are you doing here? I thought… Wasn't what I did enough? Why are you here? What happened to the babies? Where's Al? That damned Gate. I thought I was enough. Where is your metal arm?"

This Ed looked at Wrath, the expression on the young man's face making the boy stop. "You seem to think you know me already, but I'm not who you think I am." Wrath couldn't help but notice the accent was like that of the boys at the orphanage, only more refined. He looked up at this teen, with his much lighter blond hair, wide innocent eyes that had more of a brown tint to them than Wrath had remembered. "If you trust me, I think there is someone who might be able to help you. He lives at my boarding house." This Ed put his hand on Wrath's shoulder. "Do you trust me to take you to him?"

Wrath nodded and followed. "Is… is your name Ed?"

"Yes, it is, but most people call me Edward. What is your name?"

"Um… when I got here, they called me Ulysses, but I used to go by Wrath."

"I think I will call you Ulysses, if you don't mind."

Wrath shook his head. He didn't mind if this teen called him Fluffy if it got him out of the orphanage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

_**Working Things Out **_

_**Amestris**_

Roy aggravatedly drummed his fingers on his desk, left foot twitching rapidly beneath. Falman, who was now serving as Roy's personal secretary since his appointment as fuhrer, attempted to contact Lior on the telephone, reaching a pompous major on the other end. Growing more and more annoyed as the major on the other end didn't seem to take Falman's request seriously.

"I am calling trying to reach Raine Mustang. This comes as a direct order from the fuhrer."

"Give me that damned thing!" Roy said, ripping the phone from Falman's hand. "Major whateveryournameis, do you have any idea who this is?"

"Sir, I…"

"Now, I don't care if there are no privates nearby to run this little errand for you. If you need to, you will go and find my sister yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir… I'm sorry sir…"

"I'm sure you are. And the next time you receive a call from my secretary, you will heed my requests, now won't you, Major? Unless, of course you'd like to experience the title of Lieutenant all over again."

"Yes Sir, I'll be right on it, Sir."

"Damned right you will!" Roy slammed the phone down. "When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed." He looked up at Falman. "Sorry."

"It's quite all right, Sir."

Roy had been irritated, even a little bit concerned over the idea of Alex Armstrong and his sister, but having this major insist he was going to wait to talk to his sister because Falman was a lieutenant delivering Roy's order certainly was not going to happen. Admittedly, the fuhrer's orders were not of military importance and the call was actually a personal one, but if it _had_ been a matter of state security, he didn't want some trumped-up major to think he could rebuke a direct order from him.

Roy absent-mindedly looked through the stack of papers, flipping through the requests, signing what he approved of, denying what he didn't, waiting for the phone call from his sister. Falman kept himself busy, guiding Roy to each place on the forms that required a signature and initials.

"Hey Fuhrer!" a cheerful voice asked from the door. Falman rolled his eyes as Breda walked in the room, looking at Roy with eyebrows raised. "Chief, what's wrong?"

"This, I believe," Falman said, holding out a photo.

"A statue of Armstrong…" Breda said. "And a woman? And Raine!" Breda started laughing. "Shit, you have to

be kidding me!" He handed the photo back to Falman. "There's no way." He laughed louder. "Armstrong and Raine!"

"Glad you are so amused, Major." Roy leaned back in his chair, half-glaring at the man. He was so far back that when the phone finally rang, he nearly fell out of the leather seat in an attempt to answer it.

"Fuhrer Mustang," he said.

"Pyro, are you okay? What's wrong? Is it something with the babies?"

"Raine, no, I'm fine. The babies are fine, Ed's fine."

"Then what is it? You had me scared to death."

"We got General Armstrong's report. He sent numerous photos of his work in Lior. There were some interesting statues in those photos."

He heard Rain's melodic laugh on the other end. "Yes, it's really very flattering."

"Flattering? Raine, please tell me you have no intentions of doing anything with Armstrong."

Roy could almost visualize as his sister's face, so similar to his own, lips pursing together, brows furrowing. "Little brother," she said, voice terse, "I will see who I want to see. However, for your own peace of mind, as my love life seems to be more important than military affairs at the moment, I am not seeing General Armstrong. He has an infatuation with me."

"You have no intention of…"

"Roy you managed to become fuhrer and still be a moron." She laughed again. "Alex is sweet, and he has a good heart. You should just hope I don't get it into my head to date him just to spite you."

"Raine!" Roy found himself standing up, as though she was in the room with him.

"What was it he said to me? 'The Armstrong line is known for being ideal specimens of human perfection in physique and deeds. However, outside of the family line, I have discovered the true exemplary representation of the female form, which is why I insist on using you for my depiction of the womanly ideal.' A woman could fall in love with words like that."

"You… Have you heard his stories?... You can't…" Roy liked Armstrong, he really did, but the idea of his older sister and the nearly bald alchemist grated his nerves like nothing else.

"Pyro, how old are you? Crap, how can you still take bait like that? Really, Roy, I would have thought at thirty you'd be beyond that."

He hung up the phone to his sister's still laughing voice. Damn her.

0o0o0o0

Ed pulled on the familiar white glove, fingers rubbing over the fabric-covered wedding and engagement rings, a confident smile on his face. It felt good to be wearing his clothes again. He had adjusted the mirror back to its usual position earlier, and now looked at himself in the reflection. Hair braided, red coat with Flamel on, black leather pants, black and white shirt, and heavy black boots. Finally, he felt normal, back to himself.

He left his bedroom, walking downstairs to the study, saying nothing as he watched his brother and Winry making over Nicholas and Aideen.

"They're so adorable," she said, looking up at Al's gentle face. "And they've gotten so big."

"Yeah," he said, wagging a finger in front of Nicholas's face as he held the little boy in his arms, "this little guy is still shorter than his sister, but she's a little bit longer than average."

"Who'd've ever thought that from Ed?"

"Who you calling so short his kids would be pigmies?!" Ed asked from the archway.

"Brother, she didn't say that," Al said, standing, holding his nephew against his shoulder.

"It's been a long time since I saw you in that, Ed," Winry said. "It looks good."

"Well, for your information, the only pieces of this that are the same thing I used to wear are the boots. My legs and arms were too long and my shoulders have gotten wider, so I couldn't wear the rest of it anymore, smartass."

"Ed!" Al said. "Your children are in the room!"

"And they don't understand the language yet." Ed rubbed Nicholas's blond head with his left hand. The doctor had already told them that the little boy's body seemed a little more sensitive than Aideen's, explaining why he didn't like the feeling of Ed's automail. Unintentionally, it meant that while Ed could hold Aideen indefinitely in his automail, he could only carry Nicholas as long as his human limb held out.

"Thank you both for taking them for the day," Ed said. "I don't get to visit Roy by myself very often."

"We're glad to take them," Winry said, jiggling Aideen on her shoulder as she sat on the sofa.

Al nodded, sending long, sandy-colored hair shaking behind him.

"Listen, I'll go out the front. You guys sneak out the back."

Al and Winry made their way to the baby carriage both placing a baby in one of, Al slinging a bag of baby supplies over his shoulder. Ed couldn't help but notice as Al reached for the handle of the twin carriage, Winry did as well, their hands brushing against one another, their faces blushing. The older brother smiled, then patted them both on their shoulders.

"Have fun and be careful."

Ed stood at the front door, glancing back at Al and Winry to make sure they were ready. Seeing they were, Ed opened the door, to be assaulted by a series of flashbulbs. The teen seriously wondered how long, exactly, the public's fascination with his life with Roy would last.

"Mr. Elric! Mr. Elric! Where are the babies today?"

"How is married life treating you?"

"When do we expect to see you back in service as the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"Have you heard any plans of a treaty with Creta?"

"Have you heard any word from the government of Drachma's reaction to a homosexual leader of Amestris?"

"Is Fuhrer Mustang good in bed?"

Ed sighed. It was going to be a long walk to Central.

0o0o0o0

_**London**_

Wrath stood beside Edward outside of a brick rowhouse. "Follow me up the stairs," Edward said.

Nodding his dark head, Wrath obeyed, walking up the doorstop, up the wooden stairs within the plain building. The blond rapped on a door on the third floor. "Hohenheim, are you in there?"

"Hohenheim?" Wrath said, remembering at least slightly that name's connection with the Ed he'd known.

"I knew I was right," Edward said with a pleased smile. It amazed Wrath that this teenager could look so much like Ed Elric, but yet so different. The boy knew what that smile would have looked like on the Ed he knew, but on this one, it was less that cocky grin and more of a slight pride and satisfaction. This Edward was softer, less rough around the edges, from what Wrath could see so far.

Wrath watched as the door opened in front of him and a man he'd met only once, but was more than familiar stood just beyond it.

"I believe you are not alone here, Hohenheim." Edward placed a hand on Wrath's shoulder. "He panicked when he first saw me the same way you did."

Hohenheim's brown eyes widened when he saw the boy. "How did you recognize Edward?"

"I recognized him because he looked like your son. I thought Ed had ended up on this side of the gate in this London place."

The older man opened up the door wider than before. "Please come in."

Wrath stepped into the modest little flat. There were stacks of books and papers scattered around. He wasn't quite certain what the older man was studying, but he certainly seemed devoted to it.

"You are that young homunculus, aren't you?" Hohenheim asked once the door was shut.

"Yes. I used to go by the name Wrath, but here they call me Ulysses."

Hohenheim raised an eyebrow. "As I understand it, that is the meaning of that name. It comes from mythology… and I'm sure that would just bore you."

Edward sat in wooden chair at Hohenheim's desk. "Well, if I doubted you at all before, I really shouldn't now."

"Doesn't any of this seem odd to you?" Wrath asked.

"When I first encountered Hohenheim, I was gathering materials for my experiments when I discovered him crouched in a field. He was wild, going on about Ed and Al and babies, saying something about Envy being just behind him. I thought I was dealing with a madman, until I saw some great rift in the sky so powerful it bloody well knocked me to the ground, pardon my language. Then this terrifying serpent came out and came after the both of us."

"Envy… He's here too?"

"I'm afraid so, but he doesn't seem to be able to transform out of that shape," Hohenheim said, cutting a slice of bread and opening a container of jam, spreading it on the bread, "so he has evoked every myth, every legend this world has. He's a hunted creature, and thankfully, that has kept Edward and me safe. Otherwise, I am quite certain he would kill me and possibly Edward for his resemblance to my Ed."

Hohenheim handed the bread to a grateful Wrath.

"Now," the man said, "tell me about my son. Did you get to see the babies? How is Al?"

"I didn't last much longer than you," Wrath said, mouth full. "But I'll tell you what I know."

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed walked through the halls of Central, poking his head in what used to be Roy's office. "Lieutenant Colonel Havoc!" he said.

Jean Havoc looked up from a stack of papers, smiling when he saw the younger blond. "Hey, Ed. How are things going? Did you bring the kids with you?"

"Things are fine, and Al and Winry have the babies." He showed Havoc the box of food from the deli down the street. "I wanted to have a lunch alone with Roy. We haven't gotten to do that since Nicholas and Aideen."

"I see you're also back in your old clothes."

"I figured they needed to be taken out of retirement," Ed smiled, walking into the office he'd stormed into so many times in the past. "Besides, I wanted to look official when I asked to get re-instated."

"Getting bored?"

"With twin babies, life is never boring." The teen grinned, folding his arms. "However, I think my brain is going to go to mush if I don't have something to do with it." He waved his hand in mock protest. "Don't get me wrong, Peek-a-boo is stimulating, but I think I've mastered the game." Havoc folded his arms and rested his feet on the desk that had once been the fuhrer's. The new lieutenant colonel had no issues in using the homunculus's furniture as Roy had, and Ed was grateful for Roy's reluctance. The furher's desk was too damned big and too damned tall. "So, how did your date with Gracia go last night?"

"Really good." Ed watched as the calm expression on Havoc's face changed, looking a bit goofy, eyes a bit glazed, then as quickly as that puppy-dog expression had appeared, it vanished. "You know, you're the first person to ask me about it."

"Well, how would anyone know it's your first date? You've been visiting Gracia and Elysia three or four nights a week."

"That was as a friend."

"I know, Havoc, I know." Ed turned toward the door. "I'm happy for you. You deserve someone who won't shoot you down immediately—"

"Hey!"

"And Gracia deserves someone like you. Since Maes died," Ed had taken to calling him Maes because of his exposure to Roy. "I haven't seen her look as happy as she has these last few months." Ed opened the door. "See you later, Havoc."

"Have a nice lunch, Boss."

"I intend to."

Ed walked up the stairs to Roy's new office greeting Falman as he approached the door, and asking the older man not to disturb them during Roy's lunch hour. "We don't get to do this often, you know?"

Falman, who Ed had discovered about a month ago already had a teenage daughter, nodded knowingly, preparing to take his own lunch break while Ed entered Roy's office.

"Lieutenant Falman, can you make sure to send something to Raine as an apology?" Roy said, not looking up from his paperwork.

"What did you say to Raine?"

"Ed?" Roy glanced up, a grin suddenly forming on the older man's face when he saw Ed's attire. "Are we back to wearing leather?" The brunette stood, crossing the rather long distance between them.

"I told myself once I felt back to my old self, the old clothes would be coming back. You didn't notice them at the back of the closet?" Ed helped to close the gap between them.

"No, but I wish I had." Roy wrapped an arm around Ed's waist and quickly pressed their lips together. "You look very good in leather."

"Pervert," Ed said. Roy kissed him on his forehead, his chin accidentally bumping the bridge of Ed's nose, forcing a pained hiss out of the younger man.

"Ed, are you okay?"

"Aideen cracked me between the eyes with her forehead. I'll probably have a bruise there, if not two black eyes."

"You got beaten up by our three-month-old daughter?" Roy asked, mirth in his voice.

"It's not funny, Fuhrer Bastard."

Roy bent down to kiss Ed's cheek. "Of course not."

"See if I bring you lunch again." Ed pushed the white cardboard box into Roy's chest. "Take this to your desk."

The blond moved to the edge of the room, clapping his hands quietly and pressing against the paneled wall. He then moved to the familiar desk, where Roy was untying the string around the box. Ed walked back over to the desk, taking off the red coat as he did, tossing it on the leather sofa. Ed moved behind Roy and wrapped his arms around the fuhrer's shoulders and chest.

"We can get that later," Ed said, turning Roy around to face him.

"Ed, what are you doing?" Roy asked as the teen unbuttoned his uniform coat.

"I believe I'm undressing you. You could exchange the favor, if you'd like."

Ed slid the blue coat over Roy's shoulders, while Roy's hands slid down his back to Ed's leather-clad behind.

"Ed, we can't here. Falman is…"

"At lunch, and I already sealed and soundproofed the room."

"You had this planned."

"For months. Before the babies were even born." Ed pulled the blue coat completely off, tossing it carefully on top of his own red one. He then unbuttoned the first few buttons on that white dress shirt before him, feeling two gloved hands fumbling for the zipper at his own neck. "Please don't disappoint me."

Ed began kissing each bit of exposed skin, feeling and hearing the older man moan as he sucked and nipped at Roy's neck. He continued to pull open the white shirt, feeling his own being pushed off his shoulders. He released his grip on Roy's buttons to allow the fuhrer to remove the black shirt and toss it with the coats. Ed made a few final pulls at the tails of Roy's and followed his husband's movements. Hastily, the two men pulled off their white gloves, allowing their hands to make actual contact with skin. Each began pushing at the white undershirts, legs and hips occasionally bumping against one another, each one a revelation of their growing needs.

With all barriers gone between the upper halves of their bodies, Ed began slowly kissing down Roy's throat and chest, mismatched hands working at the buckle of Roy's pants, then the zipper. In turn, his husband began kicking off his shoes, allowing Ed to have him completely nude in one swift movement as he jerked down the man's blue pants and striped boxers.

Ed grabbed Roy's hips and put the body of the older man on that familiar old desk.

"What are you doi—Ah!" Ed smirked up at Roy as he knelt down in front of him, feeling a bit tight in the black leather. "This is new—Oh, damn Ed!" Tentatively, Ed proceeded, tongue circling as he attempted to take in more. The look of surprise on Roy's face was priceless, and not shocking, since despite a three-month marriage and having been intimate longer than that, this was the first time that Ed had done this. Moving his head further down the man's shaft, Ed knew he didn't have the skill necessary to take all of the length, but he would make the attempt and try to do the best he could, having learned from his experience on the other end of this. He could feel Roy trying to grab onto his head and hair, but spending much of the time gripping onto the desk for balance.

From his back pocket, Ed removed a tube of lube, popping the thing open with one hand, he looked up at Roy and stopped his ministrations on his husband's member.

"Roy, I'd like to…" There was still something awkward about this, much as the blond had practiced asking this in his mind. "You have offered before…"

"I've offered…" Roy was already breathing heavily. "…every time, but you never… You want to in my… my office?"

"I like the idea of you blushing every time you look at your desk," Ed confessed, trailing a hand up the pale inner thigh. He kissed Roy's stomach, darting a tongue into Roy's naval. "There's something sexy about knowing I've taken the fuhrer in his own office. We need to break it in, you know."

"I'd thought the same thing, but this wasn't the way I'd thought."

Ed felt a little dashed. Roy had offered so many times. Did he just think that Ed would always be bottom? Were the offers all meaningless?

"There are too many papers on the desk. We'll need to move them."

"Right—Wait, you mean…" Did Fuhrer Roy Mustang just agree to desk sex and being on the receiving end?

Quickly, Ed moved files to the floor and returned to his husband, kissing him firmly on the mouth, tongues intertwining, wondering if it was as disturbing for Roy as it usually was for Ed when he tasted himself on his lover's tongue. Ed squeezed the lubricant onto his fingers.

"Chocolate?"

"Scented," Ed explained. "There's also chocolate cake in that box. Thought it would cover the smell."

Ed smeared the thick stuff on his fingers, watching as Roy turned away from him. "Other way. Lay down on the desk."

Roy obeyed, and leaned forward on his elbows as Ed propped the man's legs on his shoulders and began swirling a finger around the very tight puckered hole. Slowly, with every ounce of patience the teen had learned since the arrival of the babies, Ed worked his index finger inside, realizing it had been a long time since his love had been bottom, though Ed didn't want to think about who it might have been with.

"Okay?" Ed asked.

Still on his elbows, Roy only nodded. Though Ed continued to watch Roy's face as he added the second finger and knew he saw struggle in those dark eyes. After months of bottom, Ed knew this pain well enough, gentle as the older man was, and the teen found himself searching for the spot that always made Ed forget the discomfort, while he moved his mouth back, realizing he might have difficulty finding the spot, and there was a much more obvious method of distraction before him.

"Mmm, Ed…" Ed scissored his fingers, finally finding something spongy that made Roy buck into his mouth, nearly gagging him. "Oh, shit, Ed!" He'd found the man's prostate, and apparently it had the same effect on the fuhrer that it had always had on Ed; Roy never cursed beyond a hell or damn if he could avoid it.

Ed added a third finger, moving them inside to once again hit that spot, finding it successfully a few more times before removing his fingers and moving his hands to his leather pants, feet kicking off the heavy boots. As the tight black leather and cotton shorts grazed down, Ed groaned. He wanted this, needed it, but had sworn he wouldn't do this until his body was back to normal, until he felt he was once again himself. Now he was, and he actually had a willing and eager Fuhrer beneath him. He grabbed the tube smearing the sweet-smelling, cold substance on himself, before positioning at the man's entrance.

"I want to know you want this," Ed said, eyes glazed a bit as he bent down to suck around Roy's chest, teasing his nipples.

"I'm on my desk and I'm stark naked. What do you think, Ed?"

"You're absolutely certain?"

"I want you in me, Ed, what more do I need to say?" Roy wrapped his legs around Ed's waist, aiding at guiding the teen. Roy gasped at the intrusion. Ed couldn't get over how tight the man's body was around him. He'd wanted to make this moment special, but part of Ed was kicking himself for not taking Roy up on his offer earlier. Slowly, he guided himself in, watching as Roy's eyes closed at first in pain, then looked up to meet Ed's once he had fully sheathed himself inside of the older man. Those onyx eyes met gold, willing the younger man to move. Carefully, Ed rolled his hips, watching intently the face of the man he loved. The heat of the man, the tight friction itself was almost enough to send the teen over the edge.

"Oh, Ed! Ed!" The dark-haired man arched his back as Ed moved faster, harder.

"So tight! Damn." Ed moaned, leaning over Roy, meeting their lips together, apparently creating a pleasant fiction for the fuhrer as he moved his own hips upward, grunting and moaning in time with each of Ed's thrusts. Ed could feel his own release nearing, but focused at keeping his promise to himself to make Roy release first. Ed held onto Roy's hips, working harder to hit that spot inside that was so absolutely wonderful that entire novels should be written on what it can do. A few strikes, he felt the muscles in the older man's body tighten, constricting around Ed.

"Ed! Aaaah! ED!"

"Roy, oh, shit Roooy!"

He felt the hot rush of liquid between them and was spilling inside of the hot body below him only seconds later. Ed managed a few final thrusts before he'd gone completely limp and was withdrawing from his husband.

"That was incredible," Ed sighed out.

"I knew it would be." Roy looked around the room. "Though I didn't think it would happen for the first time in my office." Roy still hadn't moved from his place on the desk. "I don't think I can move. I'm thirty years old. I don't think I'm designed for desk sex anymore."

"Well, while I have a captive audience," Ed said, collapsing into a nearby chair, "because I'm choosing to ignore that you sound like you've done this before, I want to get an assignment. I'm getting bored. I'd like to at least do some research."

"Fine. Whatever. As long as we can do something like this every so often when you come in to give your reports," Roy's chest continued to rise and fall on the hard mahogany surface.

"You really can't get up, can you?" Ed stood over Roy, a Cheshire-like grin on his face.

"No, I can't. I pulled my back. You could help me up, you know."

"But you look so good," Ed said as he bent down and placed a deep kiss on the man's lips. "I guess I should get you off that desk, since we have a mess to clean up."

0o0o0o0

_**London**_

"Well, I'm not sure how you ended up here, though it sounds like it was a plan that only the Gate was privy to," Hohenheim said. "Regardless, you are here, and you're going to need a place to stay."

"I could say he was my cousin Alfons," the alternate Edward suggested.

"He writes you too often," Hohenheim said, shooting down the option. "How do we explain it if a letter comes?"

"You have a cousin Alfons?" Wrath asked Edward.

"In Munich. We're second cousins once removed."

"This world's Hohenheim died four hundred years ago, and his son William married and had children, eventually leading to Alphons and Ed." He looked at Wrath. "You don't look much like me, Wrath, but I could tell them you're my nephew from America, unless you would rather—"

"Rather go back to the orphanage? Hell no, _Uncle_ Hohenheim."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

_**Moments of Understanding **_

_**One year, three months later **_

_**London **_

Wrath took a stance ready to attack, watching the older blond across the yard from him. The thirteen-year-old charged at the young man, finding himself on the receiving end of a forceful punch. Dropping to the ground, Wrath kicked his leg out, toppling the eighteen-year-old on top of him.

"Not bloody fair! You used your feet," Edward said, rolling off of Wrath and onto the grass.

"I asked you to spar. I didn't say box. The only rules on my world are no hitting the head or groin."

Wrath stood, breathing a bit heavily, still recovering from the impact of Edward's much older and heavier body slamming into his own.

"Edward," Hohenheim called, "your mail's here!"

"You must have another letter from Alfons," Wrath said as he ran ahead of the blond into the house.

After a particularly close scare with Envy, the three had moved as a group to a tiny home on the outskirts of the city. The serpent-like creature, having decided that this Edward must have been the Ed from their world, would easily have killed him and didn't seem any friendlier to Wrath than when the older homunculus had been in a human form. His fury at Hohenheim, however, seemed unmatched, and despite the myth hunters and government interest in this strange creature, Envy was growing more daring in order to get his creator.

As Edward took the envelope from his cousin off of the small kitchen table, Wrath grabbed an apple from the counter. He loved food, though he tried desperately not to over-indulge. He had never gotten to really eat before and actually feel sated after doing it. He couldn't deny it was a very good feeling.

"It amazes me how diligent the two of you are writing one another," the older man said, rinsing off a few plates left over from lunch. It was one of the rare times when Wrath wasn't more or less left to fend for himself at the meal, as both Edward and Hohenheim were home. "I would imagine that getting letters to Germany from England and vice versa would be more than a bit daunting at times."

"It can be," Edward answered as he read over the letter. "Lately his letters have been making me a little jealous. He's working for a group called the Thule Society, and they're more or less giving him free rein with his research. Most scientists would give an arm and leg for that. I would."

"Please don't joke about that," Wrath said, part of the apple still in his mouth, seeing that he wasn't the only one cringing at Edward's statement as he looked up at Hohenheim.

"Oh," Edward said, honestly embarrassed, "I'm sorry. I'd forgotten."

Wrath didn't like the idea of another Edward with metal parts, particularly since this world didn't have alchemy to provide functioning ones like the automail Ed wore. It was hard enough for Wrath to accept that he was still in possession of Ed's two limbs, despite the new body. He didn't like thinking of this world's Edward sacrificing two more for the sake of science or knowledge.

"Ulysses… Wrath?" Edward asked, trying to get Wrath's attention as he folded up the letter. "It's only a saying. Believe me, if anyone's that driven in science and rocketry, it's Alfons," he said, waving the paper a bit, "not me. I believe I am just not serious enough." Edward looked down at the paper with an expression that practically contradicted those words. "Sometimes I wonder if Alfons really takes proper care of himself." With a smile that almost instantly reversed his features to their usual, bright expression, he said, "After you're through with that, why don't we give sparring another go? Now that I know I can use my legs…"

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris **_

"Shit!" Ed said, after the fifth failed attempt at turning the strip of fabric around his neck into a bowtie.

"Ed, what if the kids hear you?" Roy chided, putting on the stern face Ed saw him use on the two young toddlers.

"Don't use that look on me. Just help me with this damned thing." Roy walked over to Ed, carefully making sure his own neatly done tie was perfectly straight.

"You're hopeless." Roy said, sighing. "Eighteen and still hopeless."

Ed held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers. "Excuse me, but I don't exactly have great dexterity, you know. Not to mention that the material kept snagging in my joints."

"Ed," Roy said, eyes focused on the task of tying the frayed fabric—Ed failed to mention he'd also torn it a bit. "Do you ever regret not having a bigger wedding?"

"Do I look like a girl?" Ed rolled his large amber eyes. "We had a ceremony at the courthouse with friends, not to mention the nearly a thousand supporters who were standing just outside. Our wedding was fine. I'd just never expected my children to be guests when I got married."

"I didn't exactly want it, either, though I'd always considered it a possibility," Roy said, looping the black fabric through before pulling it tight. "There."

"Good to see you're good for something."

"I think I'm going to slick my hair back," Roy said, looking in the mirror.

"I hate when you do that." Ed ran a brush through his own long hair, pulling it back into a neat ponytail. "It gets my hands covered in that greasy gunk, clogs the hinges in my hand. You're not doing it." Roy still reached for the can of pomade, actually opening it when Ed yelled at him. "Don't you dare!"

"It's flat on the one side, Ed."

"And it wouldn't be if you just take that thing off once in a while." Ed shoved Roy onto the chaise that sat in front of their bed, then sat on his lap, straddling the older man's thighs. He grabbed hold of Roy's eyepatch, watching as the man's hands reached up to stop him. "Fight me and I snap this back on your face."

Roy put his hands down. After more than a year of marriage to Ed, it was obvious this was no empty threat. As gently as he could, Ed removed the black thing that covered half of his husband's beautiful face, revealing the scar Roy was still sensitive of. Ed looked at the glass eye; the teen had made it using his memory of what it replaced, though it never saw daylight, despite Ed's effort to make it perfect. Tenderly, Ed kissed the tendrils of the scar as it spread out like fingers from the false left eye.

"I've seen worse than this, Roy. You don't have to hide it from me." Ed grabbed the hairbrush and ran it through the thick black hair, keeping to himself that he thought he might have seen the man's first gray hair, that or an incredibly light one, which under normal circumstances would have led to hours of teasing at the older man's expense. However Roy was self-conscious enough at the moment and didn't need this to add to it. Ed ran his hands through the hair, then moving his left hand to caress over the cheek so often covered by the stiff black fabric that it bore tan lines and indentations that might never really go away. He then carefully replaced the large patch.

Again, he ran his hands through the jet-black hair, feeling Roy just hold him for a minute, nothing said, just a simple embrace, which Ed gladly returned.

0o0o0o0

_**London**_

Wrath walked through the marketplace, trying desperately to be good as he passed stores and vendors with foods that all seemed so delicious that he thought he might spend all of his weekly stipend from Hohenheim in an hour. He settled on a handful of inexpensive hard candy and made his way to Edward's work. The teen, who was apprenticing a chemist working on more efficient fuel products, often kept strange hours, but had no complaints on his employment. Edward enjoyed his work, even if it wasn't as secretive or dangerous as his cousin's. Through his older friend and Hohenheim, Wrath was gaining interest in science himself, though he had to admit that, now that he could make sense of them, he found a good book to be just as interesting.

Speaking of which, there was a vendor with several used books on a large cart. Even if Wrath did spend his weekly stipend today, Hohenheim never begrudged him books. He began flipping through several, deciding to give one called Oliver Twist a try as well as something called Frankenstein, under the assurance of the vendor that these were both excellent books. He paid the old man and was quite proud he had some money left to spare.

"I don't think those have pictures, Ulysses."

Wrath turned around to face three of his tormentors from the orphanage, the three he dreaded seeing the most.

"The old lady wasn't happy you left."

"I don't give a damn about the old lady," Wrath said, practically hissing. He tried to get away, but in the crowd, it was incredibly difficult and he found himself nearing a wall, nearly cornering himself. "I have an uncle now. He definitely will not like if you do this."

"And what exactly are you talking about, Ulysses? What do you think we have in mind?"

Wrath did the only thing he could, running toward chemist's home lab, praying Edward would see him or he'd be allowed inside, even though he normally wasn't. It was a struggle to get away from the boys, a battle to get through the crowd and at the end of it all, he questioned if it was worth it. He now found himself alone on a secluded street, looking up at a stone building, not knowing if anyone was looking back.

"Edward!" he yelled out, pounding on the door. "Edward, please, let me in!"

The door opened and Wrath was faced with Edward putting on his coat, lab coat in hand. "Ulysses?"

"Boys… From the orphanage…"

"Ulysses, get back here!" someone shouted. Edward stood in front of the dark-haired boy.

"Goodbye Dr. Barrie," Edward said, nodding slightly to the balding man inside.

Wrath shut the door behind them, not quite certain what it was that Edward had in mind, but he had no complaints. "I had intended to show you these when we returned home, but I think they will be better served at the moment." When the boys came around the corner, Edward stood facing them. "What are you doing to my cousin?" the blond asked them, handing behind his back a pack of matches and a tiny paper-wrapped ball with a fuse out of the top. Realizing the instruction, Wrath struck the match and lit the fuse while Edward threw a handful of snapping items into the group of boys, startling them. "Throw it Ulysses."

Wrath did as ordered, tossing the item at the boys, then feeling the teen grab his hand, pulling him out of the alleyway and into a more crowded block of London.

"What was that thing?" Wrath asked.

"It was a smoke bomb, and a rather nasty-smelling one."

"Wait, is that what made you stink for a week?"

"That would be it. It absorbs itself into the skin. I will do my best to round you up a few."

Walking through the crowd of people, Edward released his hold on Wrath's hand, both of them laughing at the unfortunate fate of those boys.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy sat back on the wooden chair that faced away from the white linen-covered table with a thud, Nicholas in his arms, tie long since undone, as was the top button, the only signs on the older man that they'd been at the reception for hours. Ed, on the other hand, had his black coat on the chair, tie on the table, sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned at the top two buttons.

"The next time he takes off, you're going after him."

"I don't think so," Ed said.

"You're only eighteen, Ed, and I'm…"

"Stop using your age as an excuse. _I'm_ not the one who fed him _two_ pieces of chocolate cake with extra icing, so you can just go ahead and chase after him."

Nicholas, with his big, demanding black eyes looked up anxiously at his papa, who held onto the hyped-up toddler's hands, so the boy could jump up and down. "All of this running, bending over, and picking him up could hurt my back, and that _is_ your fault."

Ed rubbed Aideen's back as she sat on his lap, playing with a little stuffed bear, lacy dress puffed out behind her, as she was chattering away to the animal. "As much as I would absolutely love to take claim on wrenching your back that day because I am just _that_ good, Mr. Mustang, I would take the guess that your back has just been under a lot of stress to go out on you like that."

"Well, I'd hauled you around for a few months." Ed only rolled his eyes, as though prepared to respond that he never asked for any of it.

"Papa," Nicholas whined. Roy held the strong little hands up, so the boy could swing and bounce around between the man's legs. The blond boy laughed as he bounced, so strange considering how many of Riza's features the little boy held. It was odd to see what was essentially her face look so energetic and excited.

"Al seems to have gotten over his nervousness," Roy said, watching as the younger Elric spun around on the

dance floor with Winry, his head bent down on top of hers. It had been comical to watch the two brothers dancing together the last few weeks, as Al had been taking dance lessons and managed to recruit Ed into helping him practice what he'd learned (improving Ed's ability in the process). Roy had to admit it was nice to watch the two childhood friends realize their feelings for one another. Roy silently wondered how long it would be before there was another wedding for his brother-in-law.

"They've been on the dance floor all night," Ed said, smiling, his left hand pushing Aideen's black hair out of her eyes.

"And I don't think they've noticed," Roy said, watching as the bride and groom of the wedding danced next to Al and Winry. Maes would have been happy to know that Gracia could find love after him. Roy had watched Gracia Hughes, no Havoc now, slowly look like she was wearing down under the weight of life without the man she loved. It was so nice to finally see her look so happy. And Jean, he had an expression on his face of contentment and affection for both mother and daughter. At their side, the six-year-old held the two adults' hands, looking nearly as pleased as they did.

Roy dared anyone who had held doubts about these two to question their relationship watching them dance together now. It didn't matter that Gracia was four years older, or that some felt she still needed to be in mourning. Nearly two and a half years since Maes's death, the pain still stung, but if she had found happiness, who the hell were they to say anything about it?

"Bear, Daddy, play." Ed watched as the little girl, whose language skills, if not her physical ones, far surpassed her brother, held the bear like he was dancing. It amused Roy that she was already beyond the need for dada, and had moved on to call Ed daddy.

"You want to dance with your bear?"

"Dance," she said. "Want dance. Dance Daddy."

Ed stood up, holding his daughter in his arms. No sooner had he moved, and the little boy let go of Roy's hands and darted out as fast as he could onto the dance floor. The older man remembered when he and Ed had been excited with their son's first steps, but it seemed ever since he first took them, they'd been trying to play an endless game of catch the toddler. Roy ran up behind the boy, grabbing him from behind and lifted him up.

"Shit!" the tiny boy said.

"Nicholas!" Roy said, turning the boy to face him. "Where did you learn that word?" As if Roy didn't know.

"Dada!"

Looking across the room, Roy saw Ed cringe. He walked over to the teen, wrapping an arm around him. "We're going to have to work on your language around the children," Roy said.

"Yeah, I know," Ed said, wrapping his own arm around Roy, slowly swaying the older man into the rhythm of the music.

Dancing together, the couple gently rocked their children to sleep, becoming nearly as unaware of the amount of time on the dance floor as the newlyweds and the young lovers.

0o0o0o0

_**London**_

"So, Ulysses," Edward said, sitting next to the boy on his bed, "want to tell me how someone who manages to knock me to the ground every time we fight looks so terrified by those three boys?"

"They…" Wrath looked down at his feet. "They were the worst bullies at the orphanage. They didn't just try to fight me." He inhaled slowly. "They threatened to do… other things."

Edward put his arm around Wrath's shoulders. "Bloody hell, I should have blown the little bastards up."

Wrath looked up at the young man in surprise. He was accustomed to hearing Ed swear, but not Edward. "I just appreciate they're going to smell like rotten fish for a week."

For some time, they sat in silence, then finally, Edward broke the quiet, looking down at Wrath, saying, "Hohenheim doesn't talk much about the other version of me. What was he like?"

The young teen wondered how long it would take for the blond to ask about Ed. For a long time, he didn't, Wrath suspected, because of how strange the idea of another version of himself must have seemed, but now, he was asking, actually wanting to know about the Ed Wrath had known.

"He was stubborn, swore a lot, shorter than you, a genius in alchemy," Wrath wasn't sure how long this list would go on.

"What made you trust him as much as you did?"

"He was honest and stuck true to his word. He was good to his brother."

"What about babies? Both of you asked about babies, and Hohenheim is especially quiet about that."

"I don't think he wants to jinx it," Wrath said. "There were two babies on the way when we both came here." With caution on how much detail he went into, Wrath did his best to explain what he could to Edward, as not to confuse him. Edward took it all in, obviously at a loss for how to react to the information passed along by the young teen.

"He was engaged to another man?" Edward said, looking baffled, shocked, as though grasping that pregnancy was easier to accept as a mystery of Wrath's world of alchemy more so than the idea of two men together, such a taboo in this world.

"Roy Mustang, yes."

"But it's a sin."

"Not there. Do you not have homosexuals in this world who just are nice, not like those boys?"

Edward paused, seeming to think that question over very carefully. "They are here, but they are never allowed to admit it."

"That is wrong. It doesn't seem fair"

Wrath looked up to find an answer in the teen's face, but found none. Edward merely sat once again in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

_**Other Countries **_

_**London **_

_**Six months later **_

Every few days, Edward would ask Wrath about the other version of himself, making the former homunculus wish he had gotten to know Ed better. Eventually, the two had resorted to asking Hohenheim more about the other world, Wrath regretting having missed out on so much. More and more, he was regretting being in this world, with its high moral standards that it seemed no one ever managed to live up to.

But tonight, that didn't matter, the three were going to see a play in London, one by someone named Shakespeare. Wrath had read one or two of the man's plays, but they really hadn't made much sense to him, still he had been assured by the neighbor who had insisted they buy tickets that watching was much easier than reading, and after the first few scenes, the language all started to make sense. The former homunculus doubted it, but this play was supposed to have some good visual gags, so that could make up for it.

The three rode in a carriage, nearing the city, when something started to spook the horses.

"This isn't good," Wrath said, feeling that that statement seemed blatantly obvious the moment it left his mouth.

Edward stuck a blond head out of the carriage, bringing it back inside as quickly as he could. "Envy." Wrath could hear Hohenheim snapping the reins harder, yelling at the horses to run as quickly as they could. It had been nearly a year since Envy had found them last. They were near the city, when the large serpent normally gave up his pursuit, but it seemed he had grown tired of chasing and retreating and was going in for the kill tonight. Thankfully, upon the sighting of this creature, numerous men and women appeared toting guns and weapons of sorts, hurling them at Envy, giving the three in the carriage enough of an opportunity to escape into an obscured alley and into a crowd. Discretely, they watched as the beast disappeared.

"We cannot continue to do this," Edward said. "I'm barely nineteen and that thing takes years off of my life every time it appears."

Wrath looked up at Hohenheim. "How's your four-hundred-year-old heart managing?"

"My heart's barely fifty. My soul on the other hand…"

"Fine," Wrath said, not needing the correction to his mistake. "What do we do? He's getting bolder."

"You two need to get somewhere safe. Envy is my problem, my responsibility. I'll deal with him." Hohenheim looked to Edward. "Do you think that Alfons could get you work in Munich? For both of you?"

"I think so. I might be of some use to him, and I'm sure we can find something for Ulysses."

"But you can't just let Envy catch you."

"I have no intention of it, but he'll follow me as long as he thinks he can get me, and one person's easier to hide than three. I'll see if I can use my connections through the government to get the two of you out of here tonight."

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy was running late. He had tried so hard to get out of the office early, and he was late. He hoped he hadn't missed too much. Walking by the armed guards at the front gate—additions made to the property since he became fuhrer—he made his way to the door, opening it to find Ed and Raine walking through the hall with a series of party favors. Roy nearly laughed when he saw a foil crown resting atop his sister's dark head. He snickered aloud when he realized Ed had one that matched it.

"Shut-up you old fart," Ed growled. "You're late."

"I know I am. I tried, I really did, to get here early."

Ed's lips tightened. "Speaking of early, the emissary from Creta arrived today. Two days early. He unpacked his things and is currently at our children's second birthday party."

"Why didn't you let me know?"

"Well, you were so determined to get out of the office that you stopped accepting calls or messages." With his left hand, Ed poked him in his ribs. "When Falman isn't there, be more specific to your substitute secretary and let them know that calls from _me_ are to be accepted at all times."

"I'm sorry, Ed."

"Damned right you are." Ed set the favors on the table, then walked back to Roy and placed a ridiculous-looking paper top-hat on his head.

"I can't meet the emissary like this."

"The emissary is sporting two cones on his head. You can meet him with a top-hat on. Besides, Aideen put this princess crown on me two hours ago and yells at me when I take it off. Be grateful." With that, Ed pulled him down for a quick kiss on the cheek, purposely snapping the elastic band under his chin, which held the hat on his head.

"Papa!" a tiny voice said, running from the study. With a grin, Roy watched as Aideen, clad in a blue jumper came running toward him, arms outstretched, a crown matching Ed's on her head.

"How's my little princess?" Roy said, swooping down to pick her up, throwing her into the air just a bit before resting her against his hip.

"Not a princess. Queen!" she huffed.

"Well, my little queen, happy birthday."

"Daddy and Auntie princesses." Ed groaned, looking like he desperately wanted that crown off his head. "No taking off, Daddy."

With a tight-lipped smile, Ed looked at her. "No, I'm not taking it off." Then, as he walked by papa and daughter, he mumbled, "Always the friggin' woman. Always."

Roy was about to remind Ed that last night it certainly hadn't been that way, but the fiery-eyed little girl at his side forced him to keep his mouth shut. "Well, Queen Aideen, how old are you today?"

"Two," she answered proudly.

"That's right." Still holding her at his side, her hand holding onto the gold braids of his uniform, they walked together into the study, finding Nicholas sitting on Sig Curtis's lap, chattering away, Jean and Gracia standing nearby, his arm around her waist as she sipped at punch Ed had proudly made himself, knowing the blond, probably much too sweet. In shock, he watched as the rather rotund figure of the Creta emissary stood opposite Breda, both attempting to make Elysia Hughes laugh herself simple as they charged at one another like bulls. Pleased, the seven-year old laughed, thoroughly enjoying herself. Al and Winry sat on the sofa, his hand resting on her knee. Roy knew the younger brother had yet to celebrate his eighteenth birthday and he was still very young, but he wished the teen would just get on with asking the girl to marry him. It didn't mean they had to get married right away, but they were already so close the sign of commitment seemed a natural step.

Falman and Fuery were in the corner, acting as middlemen between a still-determined Alex Armstrong and a reluctant Raine Mustang.

Roy felt Ed grab his hand. "Come here, I want to have you hear something," Ed pulled Roy over to the leather chair where Sig sat, listening with the patience of a saint to a story of words and gibberish from the blond boy. "Nicholas, count your numbers for your papa."

Nicholas turned and smiled at Roy, apparently noticing for the first time that his father was home. Proudly, the little boy puffed his chest out, wide black eyes glittering as he said. "One, two, three, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten."

Roy looked over at Ed, who held up a hand to keep him from saying anything. Then, he turned to Roy, holding up three fingers. "How many is this?"

"Three."

Ed held up his full hand. "And this?"

"Five."

"And this?" Ed asked, holding up four. Nicholas didn't answer at first. Ed continued to hold up his hand.

"Don't like."

"He's been doing this all day. I can't get him to say it," Ed said. "He knows his numbers and he knows four exists, but every time says he doesn't like it. I don't really care, as long as he knows what it is. It's just strange."

Sig smiled at the boy. "Won't you even say it for me?"

"No, Gampa Sig. Don't like."

"Papa," the dark-haired girl in his arms said, "hear what I can do. Abcdefghijklmopqrstuvwxyz."

"We think the entire alphabet's in there," Ed said. "Al and I haven't been able to pick the whole thing up, though." He rubbed Aideen's arm. "I'm going to go get the cake," he said.

"Cake?" Nicholas said, practically twisting around on Sig's lap.

"And you only get one piece," Ed said, pointing at Nicholas with his right hand, then turning it on Roy, repeating, "One piece."

Roy rolled his eyes, making Aideen giggle, and he had no choice but to squeeze the little girl tightly in his arms, then reach his right hand around and tickle her, making her giggle even louder.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

"You are to report back to central command that the Thule Society has captured the psychic, essentially buying her for her services, understand Captain," the major said, looking down at the black-haired man. "I am remaining behind, to see if I can infiltrate them."

"But, Major, isn't that a bit of risk?"

"You doubt my ability to speak German like a native?"

"No, sir, but at the circus, no one cared what nationality you were. Sir, if the Thule Society suspects, they would just as well kill you."

"When you're a spy, that is generally a risk. That's why I didn't have a family. Speaking of which, isn't it the twins' birthday today?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then, you need to get yourself back to London before their birthday's over with. It's still early. You might have time to see them before the day's completely over." The major smiled as the captain saluted him. "Roy, get your arse home and give Riza my best."

"Yes, sir. If for some reason I should need to reach you, by what name do I address you, sir?"

"Stephen Waldemar."

0o0o0o0

Wrath stepped off of the platform, trying to find the man they were to meet. "What's his name?"

"Stephen Waldemar," Edward said. "Apparently, someone loyal to England because this was the name that Hohenheim gave me."

In the distance, Wrath saw as a relatively tall blond man with slicked-back hair and piercing blue eyes shook hands with a shorter, dark-haired one. "Roy," Wrath said in a hushed voice. "Edward, that's Roy."

"Interesting," the blond said.

"That's all you can say?"

"Are you trying to play matchmaker, Ulysses?" At his own words, Edward grew a bit red.

"Well, no." Honestly, Wrath had never considered whether or not this Edward was gay or not, though his introspective moments when the topic came up seemed to lead Wrath to the affirmative. "I was just trying to show you the man the other Ed married… I guess."

"For a man, I suppose I could do worse, but it seems like there's a pretty big age difference."

"Well, there was, but that didn't matter."

The two teens approached the blond. Edward spoke first. "Are you Stephen Waldemar?" he asked in German. The only reason Wrath knew that was the question posed to the older man was the repeated practice it had received on the wait for their small airplane. The taller blond said something in German, nodding his head in the affirmative. Edward replied, the man said something else, Edward replied.

"Can you two speak English for heavens sake!"

"Very well," the rich bass voice of the older man said, with a slight German accent. "And what is your name?"

"Ulysses Elric," he answered. "Now are you going to show us around this city or are we going to have to get lost for ourselves?"

"Ulysses!" Edward said.

"The boy is straight and to the point," Stephen said. "There is no flaw in that. Let us go."

Wrath eyed the man warily. Listening to his accent and knowing that somehow he was connected to the British government, he couldn't decide if this man was German or not. All the former homunculus cared about was that this man didn't do anything stupid to get him or Edward into trouble.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

By the end of the party, Ed had collapsed on the sofa, sound asleep, Nicholas on his chest, Aideen snuggled at his feet. Roy finally took the opportunity to remove his paper hat and the too-tight elastic band. Going into the kitchen, he found the emissary from Creta helping himself to another glass of punch.

"I am sorry that you had to come in today. We could have showed you a better time in Amestris," Roy said to the older man.

"Not at all, though I felt a bit like a party-crasher. I had to run out to buy the two little ones presents—"

"Which you shouldn't have done, sir."

"It was their birthday today. Of course I did. Fuhrer, I know things have been a bit strained between your country and Drachma in the last two years since you took over as leader of Amestris, but the honest fact is that Creta has watched you very carefully, seeing that you have rebuilt lands that were destroyed by your predecessor, designed numerous advances using your country's alchemy—"

"I'm afraid credit for that goes to my spouse. Ed is a brilliant alchemist, and his name is gradually becoming a means of threatening my researchers. When they can't complete something, I give it to him and he usually finds a solution in half of the time they wasted working on a project in the first place, and if he can't, his brother Al does."

"Amidst all you have done, Fuhrer, you have also managed to maintain this lovely family. You know that my country has no issues that you have a husband and not a wife, and I must say that even at his young age, your husband does a remarkably good job with those two little prodigies you are raising. But most importantly was the difference I saw tonight from the former leader. Your spouse welcomed me into your home, not a palace, but your home. I was greeted warmly by your friends and allowed in on a family gathering, without any sense of being an outsider. People like that, my country welcomes with open arms. Though I must obviously analyze your political stances, Fuhrer, I want you to know that I believe you will have an ally to the west."

Finishing off the cup of punch, the man then extended his hand, Roy taking it in his own and shaking it.

"Now," the emissary said, "if you will forgive me, I think I am going to go to bed."

Roy nodded, hoping that Sig hadn't left anything behind when he'd moved his things to Raine's house—he was to stay with Roy and Ed, but with the emissary there, Raine had offered her tiny cottage as a place to house the still larger-than-life man.

As he watched the round man struggle to climb up the stairs, he went back into the study, kneeling beside Ed, still sound asleep with the crown on his head. It brought back memories of an old fairy tale from his childhood. Vaguely remembering, Roy leaned down and pressed his lips to his sleeping lover's. Lazily, two gold eyes fluttered open.

"What was that for?"

"To thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything."

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

This Stephen led Wrath and Edward to a modest apartment in the city's center. Wrath couldn't explain it. There

was a sense that this man wasn't who he claimed he was ate away at the young teen. Finally arriving at the flat,

Stephen shut the door behind them.

"Are you really German?" Wrath asked.

With sharp blue eyes, Stephen stared at him. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because Hohenheim Elric works for Winston Churchill. He isn't about to entrust the only family," Okay that was a lie, but who cares? "he has to some random German. Where were you born?"

"Wales," Stephen answered, the accent changing to show it. "My mother was German."

"And what is your name?"

"Stephen Waldemar." Wrath quirked his head to the side, making it obvious he didn't believe this. It became a stare-down between the thirty-something man and the nearly fourteen-year-old.

"Okay, we know that isn't your real name. So, Edward, let's just go to your cousin. We don't need this fake German's help."

"I cannot tell you my name."

"Then tell us why you are willing to help us. Simple request. What's the answer? Why should we trust you?"

"Because I've been tracking a woman who was a supposed psychic at a circus. I had been working undercover there when the Thule Society snatched her out from under my nose. Her name is Noa. She's a Roma, and I can only imagine what an Arian-obsessed group such as the Thule Society wants with her."

"And what do you want with her? I'm guessing you work for the British Government?"

"Honestly, to bring her to England, where they will probably use her powers. That isn't my concern. My concern is the fact that they don't consider a Roma a human being worthy of their time. If she doesn't give them what they want, she is dead."

"And the Thule Society holds no interest for you?" Edward said, folding his arms across his chest.

"You are the first connection we've had to this group. It is an opportunity to find out what they are up to. Germany is still trying to re-establish itself after the war, and this group… It doesn't bode well."

0o0o0o0

The next morning, Edward called his cousin, obviously having trouble believing that Alfons would get himself involved in such a group. Still, the younger cousin assured Edward that he would find him a job.

While the two cousins met and discussed their work in rocketry, Wrath looked around the apartment, finding numerous books on science and, to his surprise, alchemy.

"Why do you have these?" he asked Stephen. "Something to do with the Thule society?" Wrath flipped through the book, having missed the world where these symbols and form of study were commonplace.

"They would make very little sense to—"

"This one," Wrath said, not entirely sure where his knowledge even came from, "is a symbol for fire alchemy."

"How do you know that?" the older man asked.

"I know a bit about alchemy." The tall blond knelt down in front of Wrath. "And you thought I was going to be worthless baggage, didn't you?" The young teen smiled. "I'm your ticket into the Thule Society. Because, after glancing over your attempts at rocket science, you aren't a great physicist. You stand a better chance of learning alchemy."

"But how do you know all this?"

Thinking back to the Gate, Wrath said, "Let's just say I took a crash course."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

_**Prelude to Collision **_

_**One and a half years later **_

_**Amestris **_

Roy looked in the mirror, glancing over the reflection that stared back at him. More specifically, at the gray hairs that popped out at his temples.

"I should have known," he mumbled to himself. "Father was white by the time he was forty."

"Shit, Roy," an all-too-familiar voice said in an equally familiar tone, "you must be the vainest man I have ever met in my entire life." Roy looked over at Ed. "I finally get you to stop wearing this," Ed hurled the black eye patch at Roy, smacking him in the chest. "and you start agonizing over gray hairs. About ten total. What the hell are you going to do? Dye it? And what if it starts falling out? Are you going to wear a toupee?"

Ed huffed a bit as he combed back his long hair and started braiding it, always a careful process as the blond strands caught in the hinges of the right hand.

Roy continued to look in the mirror, despite the fact that he could feel the old storm from a few nights before brewing once again, one that started after Roy had rather openly flirted with a young woman when they were out to eat. He hadn't meant anything by it, really, it was just his nature. Unfortunately, adding insult to injury was the fact that every newspaper picked up the photo of the fuhrer sitting next to Ed with a self-satisfied grin on his face as he talked to the woman.

There had been yelling, apologizing, more yelling. Even make-up sex hadn't really been that fantastic as Ed hadn't asked once to be top over the next few nights, or even show any kind of aggression, which when the handsome young man did it, was incredibly sexy. Those nights, Ed had asked Roy what he wanted, performed and looked worried the entire time he was doing it, as though he really thought the older man might leave him for a woman.

And, like it or not, for the last few days, Frank Archer's words kept ringing in Roy's ears. _"I mean men like you don't usually settle down. No matter which you're with, you're going to wish it was the other."_ It wasn't true. He'd never thought about being with a woman instead of Ed, but he'd also never thought of how often his husband wondered if he had.

"Who are you trying to impress?" the blond asked.

"I have to appear for the public, Ed."

"Yeah, and so do I, whether I'm covered in the twin's latest finger paint project or the mess from my research. And besides, Fuhrer Mustang," Ed hastily tied his hair. "the reporters spend most of their time talking to me."

"That's because you can't keep your mouth shut. Just last week, you told them we had an active sex life."

"Okay. Next time they ask, I'll tell them that you're a cold fish in bed and don't get it up." Ed poked Roy in the chest. "or maybe you'd prefer real details in the papers, like the fuhrer can scream like a girl when he gets really excited."

"I'm not arguing with you when you get like this."

"Roy it's a legitimate question. Why is it that you get so concerned over gray hairs? First of all, you don't have enough to show up in a newspaper photo. Second of all, the public actually respects a man who looks like he has some experience more than they do someone who looks like a twenty-year-old. Third, I don't give a damn if you go gray and then bald overnight, so why do you keep doing this?"

Roy positioned the patch on his face, pulling the bands down around his head. "I'm not continuing this conversation Ed. We have a charity event to go to."

"I wonder what kind of an appearance you would make if I didn't go with you."

"We're both signed up to work this dinner and it's for an orphanage. Don't even try to play that bluff with me Ed. You wouldn't do that, no matter how much of a brat you become when you're angry."

Ed's face went blank for a moment, the explosion Roy was expecting never coming, only a calm, "Wow."

The twenty-year-old's lips tightened, eyes and eyebrows moving as though having an inner dialogue with himself, mouth opening and closing slightly with each movement. "Okay."

He walked out of the door.

"Shit," Roy said, finishing putting on the patch before following Ed into the hallway.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich **_

In the time since arriving in Germany, Edward and Wrath lived with Stephen, despite the former homunculus's early misgivings on the man. At one point, Edward asked Wrath if possibly he had known Stephen as someone in his world. Wrath decided that had to be it, though much as he analyzed the man's face, he couldn't place him. There was an underlying familiarity to him, but all Wrath could figure was this blond-haired, blue-eyed man must have led a very different life, making his features look nearly as different as Edward's own soft, gentle ones were when compared to his double.

Every night the two men came home from the Thule Society, Wrath pumped them for answers and descriptions, Edward more than willingly talking about the work he was doing, less than willingly talking about his cousin Alfons. They'd been in Munich now over a year, and with each passing day, it seemed the prognosis for Edward's cousin got worse. The alternate Al hadn't been to work for the last few days, and Edward was spending more time at Alfons's apartment, now that Wrath was a little more comfortable with the blond spy.

From what Wrath could make out, Alfons was dying. Despite using Edward's more efficient and cleaner fuels, it seemed that the damage done by years of studying rockets and inhaling fumes had run its course and was nearly finished killing the nineteen-year-old.

Stephen on the other hand, was always reluctant to discuss what he'd seen, and Wrath could only imagine it was horrific for someone who had grown up in this world. The Thule Society was using Noa to read all of their minds, combining the alchemy known by all of the members to use it for their own goals. Because they still did not trust Stephen entirely, possibly because of how new he was or the fact that the weathered-looking man did not strike them as a scientist, he was regularly placed on research duties.

This was how it was every night. Except tonight.

When he came home tonight, Edward at his side, both looked very pale.

"They made another Envy," Edward said, dumbfounded.

"Another… How?"

"Lots of animals, lizards, snakes…" Stephen closed his eyes. "They made a serpent chimera, and the thing is wrapped around a giant transmutation circle. They tried activating it multiple times, but it isn't working." Stephen went to the liquor cabinet. "Then there were the suits of armor." He pulled out a stash of whiskey that usually had remained nearly untouched. "They moved by themselves. They were…" He shuddered for a moment.

"Attached souls?" Wrath asked.

"How did you know?"

"Al of my world had lost his body in a transmutation and Ed saved him by binding his soul to armor."

"Your world…" Stephen still had great difficulty accepting that Wrath came from a place that was not Earth.  
"My world. And when they take that serpent, wrapping it around the circle, does it look like this?" he asked, drawing the oroborous that had once appeared on his left foot.

"Exactly like that," Stephen said.

Wrath only shook his head. "Are they trying again tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow night, yes."

"Then you're going to need your rest. Go to bed."

"What?"

"Noa regularly reads your mind to add what you've learned to her growing mental library, Stephen," Edward said. "We're just lucky she's got too many minds swirling around in her head to figure out you're a spy. She never touches me. I think Ulysses is telling you that you need to be out of here while we talk so he isn't at risk."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You could have said as much." He took a sip of the whiskey. "Fine." He finished off the glass. "I'm going to bed."

Once they were sure they were alone, Edward sat on the small sofa, Wrath looking over what he'd drawn at the opposite side. "I'm going with you tomorrow. You have to find a way to smuggle me in."

"I won't have you risk it," Edward said. "If they find out just how much you know…" Edward looked lazily over at the fire Wrath had kept burning inside their home. "If they find out… they'll capture you and at least force Noa to read your mind. At worst, they'll make you a part of this transmutation."

"When I first came here, I came here because I didn't have anything on my world to live for. Ed was nice to me, Al tolerated me, but my mother was dead, I didn't see how I would ever be human." Wrath tucked his knees up to his chest. "And I still have things that don't belong to me." He put the drawing down and looked at his hands. Their size was far more proportional than it used to be, though the skin tone was still just a bit off. "I can't let this world end up taking advantage of something so dangerous. I can't let another me be created, or another Envy or any of the others. I need to see how far they've gotten and what can be done to stop them from getting any further. Pretend I'm an apprentice, pack me away in a box with parts. I don't care."

"You had nothing to live for in your world?"

"Nothing."

"And nothing's changed? You're willing to sacrifice yourself here?" Edward asked, looking at Wrath in a way that made the teen feel somewhat uncomfortable. Those mixed gold eyes looked hurt, making the teen avert his own for a moment.

"I wouldn't say that." Wrath fidgeted in his seat. "I mean, I shouldn't be here, so if I'm gone, no big deal, you know?"

"No, I don't." Edward stood and went to the still-open bottle of whiskey. "You're my friend, Ulysses. I don't make them easily. I'm a terrible bookworm, I spend most of my time in a lab, and for some reason, I have a gigantic snake that chases me the minute it lays eyes on me." He looked at Wrath with an odd smirk. "I am a mess when it comes to making friends." Edward poured a glass of the stuff and drank it in a single gulp. "Besides, the simple fact is that Alfons is dying, and it isn't easy for me to watch." He stopped himself, Wrath, watching the older boy carefully. It was the first time he'd ever admitted aloud to anyone that Alfons really was dying. He set the glass down and rubbed his temples, sighing. "But you are right. You're the only one of us who has any idea what is going on. You should be there tomorrow."

"I'll do my best not to get captured or killed. Okay?"

Edward nodded.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed walked by the children's room, where Aideen was sitting at her tiny table, playing with the tea set, pouring a cup of the imaginary liquid for an imaginary guest. "Here Lady Mandana. Have some tea."

The young girl paused, head tilted to the side as though listening to something. "Oh, yes. I like you very much. Do you think my dress is pretty?" again there was a pause. "Oh is he?" She turned her head. "Hi Daddy!" Aideen went and got her hairbrush, knowing from experience why he'd been standing outside of her door.

Ed walked into the room, still green and yellow from the days when it had been the babies' nursery, though the furniture inside had all changed. Aideen came back with the soft-bristled brush—all that was necessary on her fine hair—and two elastic hair bands with little white bows.

Taking the brush, Ed began gently running it through the massive amount of silkenlike hair. It was fine and rarely tangled, despite the overwhelming amount of it she had.

"Ed," said a voice from the doorway, "we need to talk."

Not looking up from his daughter's hair, Ed answered, "Not now." The minute those cold words left Ed's mouth, he regretted it. Around Nicholas, he could have gotten away with them, but not Aideen, not the perceptive little girl in front of him.

Ignoring the hairbrush in her hair, Aideen turned around and looked up at Ed.

"Daddy, are you and Papa fighting again?" Aideen looked up at Roy. "What did you do?" Roy looked down at the dark-haired girl in shock. "You look like Nichlas," she said, still leaving out the O in her brother's name, but getting the point across anyway. Roy did look incredibly guilty, a constant expression on their son's face.

"I called Daddy a name and I'm sorry for it."

Aideen shook her head, looking incredibly disappointed in her Papa. "You hurt Daddy's feelings?"

"Yes I think I did." Ed knew that Roy never considered that despite a tough exterior of an adult of twenty, there was still a bit of the teenager who'd never been with anyone but Roy, never kissed, never touched, never anything but Roy. And that teenager still couldn't shake the older man's considerable experience on him. Ed hated it because it made him feel so insecure, knowing that ultimately, Roy was bi, Roy liked both, and Ed could only ever be one, close as he'd come before the babies were born.

"I don't like when you fight," Aideen said, the all-seeing molten lava eyes looking between them. Ed's body rocked a bit at the weight of Roy's sitting on the tiny twin bed beside him. "Well, you fight a lot, not like this."

"I don't like it either, sweetie," Roy said.

"Aideen, we need to get your hair pulled back," Ed said, turning his daughter around and parting her hair to braid into pigtails down her back. He worked quickly from years of practice, though he enjoyed watching Roy attempt it from time to time, and seeing Aideen afterwards point out to her Papa that he'd missed a spot here or left a bump there.

Despite himself, Ed smiled.

The smile faded as he felt the man at his side shift. This bickering _was_ different from their usual banter, different from the exchange or short jokes—Ed was now finished growing and still only up to Roy's mouth—and jokes on Roy's age. It was bound to bother Ed that Roy so openly flirted with that woman, with her low-cut shirt and constant touching of the fuhrer's arm and lapel, yet he knew it was simply Roy. The man could turn on the charm whenever he wanted to; it was a quality that left Ed both infuriated with and endeared to the man. The problem was that when it upset the blond, Roy belittled him, treating him like a child, something the man had never done in all of Ed's life.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed could see Roy sitting, shoulders slumped, hands folded between his legs. He felt guilty.

Good.

Ed finished soon enough with Aideen's hair, then took her little hand in his own and walked out of the room with her at his side.

"When Uncle Al and Aunt Winry get married," she said, her hand encircling two of Ed's fingers, "do I get to move into Uncle Al's room?"

"Yes. Your brother wants to stay in the old room."

"And, can I make it purple?" Ed cringed a bit. At least it wasn't pink. He guided the little girl toward the railing and slowly walked down the steps with her, hearing Roy following behind.

"You know it isn't going to be for a few months now, Aideen," Ed told her.

"I know." It didn't matter; the little girl would probably have Al spending his last month in the house in a purple floral bedroom. It made the older brother want to snicker.

They no sooner went down the stairs when Ed heard Raine bellowing, "Nicholas Maes, Black Hayate is not a horse. Get off him!"

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Waking early the next morning, Wrath helped Edward pull in a large crate. When he'd joked about being brought in with parts, he hadn't actually considered it would happen. They'd sent Stephen out of the apartment already, and Wrath was now faced with the idea of being toted into the Thule Society inside of a large wooden box full of metal objects. It made his easily-injured human body cringe just a bit.

"All right. Climb in," Edward said, offering Wrath a hand to help him in. With his left hand, Wrath grabbed hold of Edward's right and stepped inside, then swung his other leg in. "You will need to duck down." Wrath nodded, crouching down, looking at Edward, who was placing the lid on top.

A few deafening swings of the hammer later, and Wrath was completely sealed inside, eternally grateful he wasn't one to get claustrophobic. He could see between the boards as Edward crouched in front of the box.

"How are you in there?"

"Wishing I still had a body that hadn't grown," Wrath joked. "Either that, or my genes didn't come from Sig Curtis. The man was a mountain." In the near dark that was only lit by a few stray lines of light, he looked down at the metal parts at his feet. "Are you sure nothing in here is sharp?"

"I am absolutely certain." Edward groaned good-naturedly. "You talk as though I packed you in there with knives and razor blades. They're metal tubing and a few parts for the ignition control, Ulysses." There was a knocking at the door. "You need to be quiet now."

Wrath rolled his eyes, as though he was going to start trying to carry on a conversation with the men from the society while he was trying to sneak into it.

As he was carted off to the society's secret gathering area, Wrath learned he had more self-control than he'd ever known, as he refrained from grunting or making any noise as his body was slammed against the boards of the crate and the metal tubes slammed against him. They weren't sharp, but Wrath was certain he'd have his share of bruises.

Finally, Wrath felt the box stop and heard Edward being confronted by some of the men he worked with. They were explaining that Edward needed to see something immediately. Wrath sat in the crate, hoping that eventually the blond would be able to get him out. Hoping that someone else didn't discover him. Nervously, he sat and waited.  
And waited.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Standing at the back of the kitchen, glancing through the open door at Roy, black suit on, tray in hand, along side other government officials and public figures serving patrons for charity, Ed was more than grateful to be at the large steel sink washing dishes. Even if he was currently surrounded by journalists.

"So, Mr. Elric, how did you get involved in this?"

Ed didn't stop working as he answered, turning on that practiced tone and way of speaking he'd learned from three and a half years of dealing with the press. "The fuhrer and I don't get to participate in every event we're asked to, but when we can do it, we try. We are making a donation, but of course, we realized that our appearance here working the dinner would bring more attention to getting money for our country's orphanages."

"And do you wish you were out front?"

"Not at all," Ed said. "I do not do well with people."

"But you talk with us so often."

"Like I said. I don't do well with people." Ed laughed, looking up from the pot he was scouring. "Now before you all scribble down 'Ed Elric says journalists not people,' I want you to know I'm kidding."

"And how have things been since that photo of the fuhrer and that woman?"

"Fine. I've known Roy for nearly half of my life, and he sometimes just doesn't know when he's being a bit of a flirt. Besides, I'm the one he comes home to every night, and that's what matters."

"Could we get a photo of you?"

"I look disgusting, but go ahead. Just make it quick. Judge Palmer's husband is going to show me up if I spend all night talking to you."

After a few quick photo ops, Ed returned to work, watching as Raine brought Aideen and Nicholas in to help their Papa serve dessert. They'd both really wanted to help with this tonight, and the orphanage system thought having the two children participate was a good idea. Personally, Ed just waited for someone to end up wearing their cake, as either Nicholas would accidentally trip and send the dessert onto a patron or Aideen would get angry and throw it at them. She had his temper, what could he say?

Excitedly, they took the small plates of cake from their father, carrying them down the tables, pleased that they were helping.

Going back to the dishes, Ed heard as a plate hit the floor and shattered, then heard the sound of his daughter crying. Faster than anyone could get to her, he and Roy were at the little girl's side, seeing that she had cut her leg on a piece of the plate that one of the adults serving had dropped.

Ed scooped her into his arms, carrying her back to the kitchen to where he'd seen a first aid kit, placing his daughter on the countertop, going to reach for the kit only to find Roy had already opened it and was removing a piece of gauze and antiseptic. Ed looked back at his daughter, prepared to sooth the little girl, but found the tears had stopped and there was a sort of calm on her face.

Roy held out the cotton material, now soaked in a blue substance. "This may sting."

Aideen held out her hand. "I can do it." She took the gauze from Roy and placed it to the cut, only wincing as the stuff hit her skin, leaving white bubbly foam behind. Both parents hovered near her, but she stared them down, a silent order that they not touch her. They had grown accustomed to this when she got hurt. Aideen didn't like contact with other people until the pain had faded.

After the initial sting had diminished and Aideen looked up at her fathers with a sniffle and a pouting face, they moved to her, Ed kissing her forehead, Roy rubbing her back.

"Such a brave little girl," one of the reporters said.

"So strong," another said, taking a photo.

"I don't cry," came the mocking, raspy little voice of her brother.

"Yes…you…do," Aideen said between sniffles.

The two fathers cut off an argument of "Yes you do"s and "No I don't"s each one grabbing onto one of the children, hushing them, and carrying them back to Raine, Aideen insisting she was okay to go back to Auntie's house. As they left their children with Roy's older sister, Ed felt Roy grab onto his left hand, the older man's smooth thumb stroking over the top of Ed's hand. Ed gently squeezed Roy's hand in return, then left his husband to continue doing the dishes.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

At what point he'd fallen asleep, Wrath didn't know, but he awoke to the soft sounds of chanting. Damn it, he cursed silently. They were starting the ceremony and Edward hadn't been able to get him out. Through a tiny crack, Wrath watched from his secluded corner of the room lit only by candles. The would-be alchemists all created a circle, and he thought that in the center of the circle, he could see a young woman standing.

Squirming on the floor, he could also see something large and black, as though it had been held down.

The chanting increased in intensity, Wrath desperately trying to focus in on what they were saying, feeling the increasing alchemic energy in the room, feeling it affect him. But without thinking about the strange feeling in his arms as they rested on top of a metal tube, he watched.

"The powers that be are with us tonight," a woman said before joining the chanting. There was a look of surprise as the floor began to glow, and a force like a wind began swirling around the room.

The same woman spoke up again, ordering for something to be brought in. "The gate to Shamballa is finally opening!"

More and more they chanted, the floor glowing, the bound creature squirming against restraints.

He could hear in the distance the clanging of metal. He craned to see, struggling to do so without making too much noise. He saw what Stephen had been talking about, and realized just what the shock had been. There were at least thirty of them. Thirty people sacrificed. Thirty souls bonded to armor.

The circle of so-called alchemists parted as the suits of armor were sent through the alchemic rift being created in the floor, to end up who knows where.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

_**Closeness Between Worlds **_

_**Amestris**_

Ed walked beside Roy, feeling much too gross to be wearing his jacket, so he carried it under his arm, clad only in the wet and sweaty white tank top. Feeling the older man's eyes on him, he looked up, seeing Roy was watching him very intently. Though part of him still wanted to hit the older man, Ed's anger at his husband was fading, if just slightly, and Roy seemed to be doing everything he could to show how sorry he was.

"You look tired," Roy said.

"I bet I do." Ed said as he felt Roy wrap an arm around his waist, looking very pleased to see he wasn't turned away. "Are you sure you want to touch me? I'm sweaty."

"I'd rather do more than touch you, but we're still in public." Ed was more than a little surprised at the man's answer, but didn't glare at him or smack him for it. It was kind of a nice reminder that yes, Roy found him attractive. Now, if he could just convince the idiot to stop flirting with women.

Making their way to the fuhrer's car, armed guards moving toward their own, they saw Havoc, Gracia, and Elysia exiting not far behind them, obviously not feeling up to the dance that had followed the dinner.

"Hey Boss, hey Chief!" Havoc yelled. The two men waited as their friends slowly made their way to them. Ed felt for Gracia, he really did. Now six months along, he knew her feet and ankles had to be swelling and her back aching, though she certainly did seem to be glowing, and Ed had never heard a complaint leave her mouth—according to Havoc, she saved those until they were alone.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" Ed asked, sharing a knowing and empathetic smile with her.

"It was really good," Elysia answered. "Uncle Roy makes a good waiter."

"Yeah," Roy said, with a grin "if this whole fuhrer thing doesn't pan out, I think I could have a career in waiting tables." He put a hand on Gracia's arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay today."

The new Colonel Havoc stood behind her, hands on her belly, that grin of "I did that" plastered on his face. Ed just rolled his eyes at him. He'd never really gotten to see that expression on Roy's face, but considering the number of complications there'd been with the twins, not just medical ones, it was little surprise.

He knelt down in front of Elysia.

"So, are you getting excited about your little brother?" he asked her.

Happily, the eight-year-old nodded her head. "We've been getting stuff for the nursery."

Ed looked up at the two parents. "Let us know if you want any of Nicholas's old things."

Gracia was about to say something when the earth began to shake, and a sudden storm broke out in the sky.

"What the hell?" Ed said, not really taking into account Elysia's presence as he let the swear cross his lips. Then, he saw a flash of lightening in the sky that took the shape of an all-too-familiar symbol. "Gracia, you and Elysia need to get out of here. Fast."

"Ed?" Roy asked, looking down at him.

"It's the Gate." Ed ushered Havoc's family into his and Roy's vehicle, as it was closest, tossing them his set of keys. "Get away from here. Go home, go anywhere but here," he said to Gracia before they sped off.

The armed guards, whose job it was to protect the fuhrer and his family from human threats looked a bit intimidated, even frightened as the symbol shifted into a giant rift in the sky. Blocking out the blinding light from the rift with a hand held to shade his face, Ed watched, waiting to find out just what move he was going to need to make.

"Brother!" he heard from the distance, a set of long legs making a quick trip down the street. "Is that what I think it is?" Al asked when he got near enough. Ed only nodded. Out of the corner of his eyes, Ed saw Al gathering back his hair and tying it out of his face. He also watched as Raine appeared.

"The kids?" Roy asked her.

"With Winry at her shop." She looked up at the sky, like the rest of Central surely was at the moment. Then it happened, the rift began spewing suits of armor, some closely resembling the one Al had worn. The first to hit the ground, awkwardly stood, nearing a young man who looked absolutely terrified. Immediately, the four alchemists and the new colonel charged at it. Ed was the first to reach it, clapping his hands and transforming his arm, spearing through the metal like butter. He hadn't hit the blood seal, but he had provided a definite distraction to allow the young man to get away.

"Come on you piece of tin, come and get me," he taunted.

As another and another came smashing into the ground, Roy began snapping his fingers, lighting the insides of armor with flames hot enough to burn off the blood seals after a few quick snaps.

Al, who had regained all memories from the Gate no longer needed to draw his alchemic symbols, was clapping his own hands, disintegrating the armor with a fierceness that could almost be called frightening, knowing that he, himself, had been encased in such a way.

Raine was the only one at a loss to attack, having to take the time to draw symbols to fend off the thirty-odd suits that were attacking the city. Havoc merely shot at them, kicked and attacked them, doing the best he could, ordering alongside the fuhrer any citizen or military officer nearby to either attack or run.

It wasn't a difficult battle, as the souls bound to the armor only seemed to have been done poorly, leaving them little more than mindless puppets, but the problem fighting them was that without a real functioning reasoning, the suits of armor had no plan or strategy for which those fighting them could expect and use against their opponent. All attacks were random, seemingly pointless except to destroy whatever was in their path.

It also allowed for one to slip away, one to head further into the city, the people rushing away from it as it made its way toward the new automail shop, a branch of Rockbell's automail from Risembool, where Ed's children were supposed to be tucked safely away.

Realizing the danger the twins, as well as Winry, could be in, Ed dispatched quickly with the suit he was fighting and ran like a madman to stop the one that with each step closed in on Ed's children. It was possible the brainless suit had not intention of going into the automail shop, but as far as the angered father was concerned, his children were in danger, and it was his responsibility to protect them. Leaping into the air and landing practically on top of the armor, he rammed his spike-like fist through the metal man.

"Pay attention to me, you hunk of junk!" he yelled, kicking at the thing with his left leg. "There's nothing you want there. Fight me!"

A driven man, Ed stabbed and slashed through the thing, making sure he'd not only gotten the blood seal, but practically every inch of the metal armor with his spike. Then, to ensure that it did nothing to hurt his children, if he had possibly missed a second seal, he picked it up—a feat he wouldn't have been capable of without the adrenaline rushing through his body, no matter how muscular he was—and threw it closer to the battle, then kicking it back to the growing heap of lifeless metal. He watched as Roy finished off with the last of the armor, and looked up at the closing rift.

"I'm sending them back to where they came from!" he yelled to Roy over the roar from above. "That will get the message across not to send anything else!" He clapped his hands, causing the ground to rumble and thrust the armor into the gaping hole in the sky. Hopefully, whoever sent the things through would realize the same would happen to them if they made the attempt. No sooner had the suits been sent through than he watched his brother collapse, the rift slowly closing above them.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich **_

Quickly, Stephen moved away as hunks of metal that had once been armor came crashing through the opening on the floor. He grabbed for Noa, who was on a direct path of one of the sharper items. The poor young woman hardly looked like he'd remembered her from his time with the circus where her group of Roma performers had frequented. She looked, well, hollow. But perhaps she had always looked that way. He'd observed her for almost a year before her own people sold her to the Thule Society, and never had he seen her genuinely smile in all that time.

His arms protectively around the Roma, he heard her whisper. "I remember you. You were at the circus, but you couldn't do any real tricks." She smiled emptily as he tried to help her stand, her eyes looking over the hunk of metal that would have ended her life. "You should have let me die."

"I couldn't—"

"I know. It's not your nature," she said, before going limp in his arms. Quickly, he pulled her up, holding her bridal style, looking to the other members of the society.

"Take her back to her room," the leader, a woman so cold and heartless, the member of military intelligence wondered how she could possibly be a real human being.

"Of course Frau Eckart," he answered, the words making him sick. He hated enough that he had to take orders from someone in the society, but the fact that it was this woman, this monster of a human being made him ill. All the woman cared about was moving herself and her ideals forward. She was cold-hearted, ruthless and wanted glory more than anything, even at the expense of others.

He made his way through the tunnels of the underground compound, a place for which the Thules had searched for more than five years, before even the major's involvement in their work. It meant little to Stephen, who held apparently no alchemic ability himself, though he was sponge for the knowledge Wrath had given him. But those within the society that _did_ seem to possess some form of natural ability, including the young woman in his arms, said the power in this place coursed through them. It was a place as close as possible as it came to connecting Earth to another world, Wrath's world. That combined with the knowledge that the society's members, Stephen included, had created the monsters in the suits of armor as well as the chimera who now laid dead around the circle, the energy needed to open the path to the other world killing it.

Now, the question was, what lay beyond that gate that was strong enough to take down thirty suits of armor and throw them back?

The Thules had cleared, and Edward made his way into the main chamber, as he'd done each time they were out of the room to supply Wrath with something to eat and some water until it was safe for him to leave his hiding place. The blond arrived in time to see the crate being ripped open. In a quasi-horror, he watched as Wrath shredded through the wood as though it was nothing, his hands gleaming in the light of the candles. He went to the rubbish from the armor, looking at a hole in one, bringing his right hand down to it, seeming to match the size of the mark with his hand, eyes somewhat wild as he looked.

Withdrawing the arm, Wrath said only one word: "Ed."

He searched through the pile, finding some that looked like they'd met with fire, searching through the mess as though looking for any that had survived, seeming ready to destroy it. When the pile started to move, the teen leapt back, hands in fists prepared to attack. In shock, Ed watched a damaged suit rising from the rubble. "Wrath, is that you?" the suit asked, looking at him with hollow eyes.

"Al…"

"I brought my soul through to see what sent these. Was it you?"

"No. Your body?"

"On the other side. And you're here?" Wrath only nodded. "What sent them?"

"The Thule Society. They're trying to get through the Gate, trying to get to Amestris." Edward came closer, but still out of view of the talking suit of armor, if it had a view. Wrath looked at this Al who somehow was in the metal, but his body was elsewhere. "I'm going to try to stop them on this side. Can you go back and tell Ed to try? And tell him I'm okay?"

"I'll tell him. Are you sure you want to block this? This could be your way home."

"Yes. I'll be okay here. I have friends here. They're sort of my… family." From his place in the shadows, Edward smiled a bit. He was Wrath's family. "And tell him, tell him your father's on this side too."

"Father? Is he okay?"

"Envy made it through, too and is chasing him, but Hohenheim writes me, lets me know he's all right." Wrath fumbled nervously over his words. "Are the babies…"

"They're fine. They're almost four. Ed's told them about you. He owes you a lot for them." The suit collapsed to its knees. "I can feel my soul moving back to my body."

"Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them that."

"Sorry?"

"The society wouldn't have known how to do this if it weren't for me. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault they used it this way and no one was hurt," the suit said just before it finally collapsed.

"But it is my fault," the black-haired teen said, dropping to his knees. "It's all my fault." He looked down at his gleaming limbs. Edward stepped out of his shadowed hiding place, moving toward Wrath. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. Teary violet eyes looked up. "I should never have taught Stephen. I risked everyone in my world because of what I did." He was practically shaking as he continued to look down at his hands. "And this place. It's powerful. I can't change my hands back."

Edward could watch the growing frustration in Wrath's face. He knelt down in front of him, then wrapped his own thin arms around the broad shoulders of the still-growing young man. "You need to calm down, Ulysses," Edward said. "You told me they used to make you remember who you were, who you should be to let go of whatever you'd bonded with. You are my friend, someone who reads entirely too many books, has far too much muscle for someone his age—you make me look like a twig, has hands that don't quite match…" Holding him like this was awkward, so Edward stood, bringing Wrath up with him, placing a hand on the back of the dark head, another arm beneath the mismatched one of the teen's. He held him tightly, telling Wrath just to remember who he was, to remember the person he'd become, a real live person. "Please. You are Ulysses. You cannot forget that. Please, just try to remember."

Then he heard it, like droplets of rain, the metal Wrath had bonded with inside of the crate dropping off of his hands in small pellets. He could feel the young man's body relaxing, the noise stopping, and the embrace being returned. For a moment, risking how this looked and that Wrath wasn't supposed to be there at all, Edward just held his friend, his left hand making small circles on the muscular back, his right gently rubbing through the coarse black hair.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

_**Studying **_

_**Three days later **_

_**Amestris**_

"Ed," Roy said, shaking his husband's shoulder. "Ed, you awake?" Groggily, Ed raised his head and looked up, a piece of paper stuck to his right cheek. "Ed, you've been out here in the lab all day."

"I have to do something to keep that from happening again."

"Ed, it is after midnight and you've been working since nearly three in the morning. You need your rest."

Obviously still rallying, the blond looked up at him. "Don't treat me like a kid."

"I'm not, but ours are getting worried about you. Three days you've been out here with hardly a break to even see them."

"I have to. It isn't safe for them."

"Get. To. Bed."

"You can't order me around."

"I'm the fuhrer, and if I have to boss you around, Lieutenant Colonel, I will."

"You're pulling rank on me in our marriage?" Ed asked, scowling.

"If it gets you to get some decent rest? Yes." Ed still didn't move as his husband had wanted, instead turning back to his research, and Roy tentatively said something he knew might later regret. "I suppose, with my bad back I can try to carry you, if you are having trouble getting into our big, tall bed."

"What was that?"

"I was just saying, that you need a _little_ rest."

"Listen, you old fart," Ed said, following as Roy backed out of the lab next door to their home, "not all of us need to go to bed at nine o'clock, just like we don't need to eat our meals at five o'clock. I am more than capable of continuing to function after the sun goes down."

"Really? I'd think you'd be _short_ on energy."

"Who you calling so short he could fall into a crack on the sidewalk?" Ed now began chasing Roy in earnest, Roy doing everything he could to stay ahead of the younger, more athletic young man. Thankfully, the blond was exhausted at the moment and not at his physical peak. Roy regretted the noise as they ran into the house, up the stairs and into their bedroom, but he felt certain that once he got the young man there, he'd finally get some rest.

Once they were together inside, Roy found Ed shoving him onto the bed. Taking advantage of Ed's fatigued state, Roy flipped the younger man, placing himself on top, the lower half of his body resting on the mismatched legs, his arms holding Ed's hands above his head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Getting you to stay put," Roy said. "I'm tired, you're tired, Al's tired. It doesn't do anyone any good if we're trying to do alchemy when we're sleep deprived."

"I'm more than capable of performing alchemy," Ed said. "That thing came after our children, Roy. Don't you get that?"

"And what if you make a mistake? Have you seen how close the lab is to our house, Ed? What about Aideen and Nicholas then?" Roy leaned down and put his forehead to Ed's, inadvertently brushing against the smaller frame below him, and reminding himself how long it had been since they'd been together, really together, not that obedient crap after their fight.

"What the hell do you have planned?" Ed asked, angrily. "Need to sleep. Bullshit. You were trying to get me in bed."

"I can't help that seeing you like this is tempting," Roy said, placing a kiss on Ed's lips.

"You dirty old man," Ed spat at him.

Roy moved a hand down to Ed's own growing bulge. "Perverted shrimp."

For a moment, they stayed in that position, Roy looking into a set of dull yellow eyes, imagining that his own must have looked just as glazed from lack of sleep. There was a consideration of proceeding, but despite both of their bodies' obvious objections, Roy simply wasn't in the mood or feeling energetic enough to continue. Instead, he just let his weight rest on Ed's body, allowing himself to drift off to sleep after he felt the man beneath him breathing deeply and the resistance in his limbs faded away.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Wrath sat on the sofa, knees bent toward his chest, book resting on them. He had received ultimate knowledge from the Gate, but he still didn't have the base of years of study from which to draw from or to help him interpret the information he had swirling through his mind. He felt something hard resting on his shoulder and looked over to find Edward was resting a glass of beer there, offering it to him.

"I don't like that stuff. Clouds my thinking," Wrath said.

"Not if you get used to it," Edward said, insisting the former homunculus drink. Wrath curled his nose up at the smell. "Just drink it. At the moment, it's all we've got."

The dark-haired teen took a drink of the revolting liquid. "It's warm." He set it aside and turned back to his book.

"Find anything to block the Gate?" Edward asked, sitting on the other end of the sofa. Wrath shook his head. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Stop asking questions," Wrath said with a smile. He wasn't mad at Edward. He knew he hadn't exactly been much company, and Stephen had been gone for much of the last few days since the successful experiment.

The blond stood and pulled some items from a box. Glancing over his book, Wrath could see it was the pieces of a small rocket, one that the leader of the Thules, the one Stephen called Frau Eckart, had requested.

"You aren't actually working on that, are you? Knowing she's going to be sending it into Amestris?"

"I have to make it look fully functional so that when it's a complete dud, I don't get blamed for making a bad rocket." Wrath nodded at Edward's answer and turned the page. As the blond tinkered with the pieces of metal, he added absentmindedly, "Have you thought about contacting Hohenheim? He's supposedly 400 years old and has created one of those philosopher stones. Don't you think he'd know?"

"That isn't a bad idea. We'll have to get Stephen to get in touch with some of his people in London. Hopefully, they'll know where Hohenheim's at." There was a part of Wrath that wanted to argue with Edward, ask him why he was so sure that the teen wouldn't figure it out, that they'd need to call the older, more experienced alchemist. But Wrath also knew that though his ego might be a bit demanding, he had no intention of allowing his own pride force him to endanger the people of his world. Al, Ed and the babies were intact. Wrath didn't want to feel responsible if something changed that.

"Well," Wrath said, glancing quickly over a section on fire alchemy, feeling certain the answer wasn't there, "until then, I'll keep looking." He looked up at the blond, whose muddy gold eyes were intently focused on the work at hand. "How's Alfons, Edward?"

Closing his eyes and sighing a bit, Edward's body slumped. "He's got maybe a few days left. I try to visit him, but he says he doesn't want me seeing him like that. When I stay, we just end up arguing, which usually ends with him coughing uncontrollably. I don't know what to do."

Wrath closed his book and slid closer on the sofa to Edward, wrapping his arm around the smaller frame. "I wish I could tell you. I've never had to watch someone slowly die. It's always been sudden."

"How did you deal with it?"

"My name was Wrath. You figure it out." He held tightly onto the thin blond, glad to be able to return a bit of the comfort he'd been shown.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris **_

_**The next day**_

"Ed," Roy chided, walking into the library, still hearing Aideen and Nicholas dogpile poor Al. "I thought I told you to stop researching how to close the gate for at least an hour."

"That isn't what I'm working on," Ed said. "I'm trying to figure out why that suit of armor went toward Winry's."

"They were mindless hunks of metal. You said that yourself."

"I know." Ed rubbed the bridge of his nose, reminding Roy a bit of himself at the moment. "So why did the thin head directly to the place where our children were being held? Why go for them?"

"It could have just been heading into the city, Ed."

"It took too much to distract it." With large gold eyes, he looked up at Roy. "What if something's after them? And I'm not even talking about the usual crap we deal with, with the terrorism threats and the attempts on your life that happen on what seems like a weekly basis."

Speechless, Roy realized he'd never considered it. He was more than aware of the threat posed by terrorists or other countries, but the idea that something from that gate could be aware of his children, or that there was something capable of manipulating them already here made him more than a little uneasy.

"Daddy?" Aideen said, head tilted to the side. "Will you come and play with us?" She looked up at Roy. "You too, Papa." Lazily, her rust and gold eyes scanned over his face. "Is something wrong? You look sick."

"I'm fine, sweetie," he said. "Well, Ed, are you going to be like your own father, or do you have time to play with them?"

"Always," Ed answered, with a glare at Roy before standing up and going into the room with his brother and son.

It was late when Dante got the opportunity to look over the moonlit city from her bedroom window. The brat was doing far too much research. She couldn't risk him blocking the gate, or worse yet, figuring out how to close it. She had to see what that other world had to offer, and until she did, she was going to need a distraction. Something to keep the prodigy of Hohenheim from figuring out how to shut the Gate down, or worse yet, to realize she had been the one manipulating the armor.

Mindless as those things were, they were drawn to great power, and she had it. She had it, and she could manipulate them. Sitting on the windowseat, back resting against the windowframe, she looked out, watching over the nearly still city, eyeing a few of the little ants going about their late-night routines, men sneaking out to be with mistresses, women trolling the streets for a little cash for a night in bed. The new fuhrer really should do something about them, she thought to herself.

But what she needed at the moment was a distraction, something guaranteed to stop the fuhrer and his miniature husband for at least long enough for her to make contact with whatever person was on the other side of the gate capable of creating those things and with the lack of morality required to do it.

How far would be far enough?

How could she guarantee not to drive them further into their studies for revenge or out of grief?

0o0o0o0

_**Three days later**_

Roy and Ed had avoided the reporters as best they could, explaining that Al and Raine were continuing the research while the "first couple" attended a political dinner. Like it or not, the representatives from Drachma had arrived in Central as scheduled just a week after the attack and were expecting a dinner and discussion with the fuhrer and the spouse that had caused problems in an already tenuous relationship between the two countries.

As well as meeting with the two men, Aideen and Nicholas were to attend. Both Roy and Ed really didn't want to have to bring them, despite the fact that the representatives were also bringing their families. It felt like political maneuvering and posturing to both men, but there was very little choice in the matter. They wanted to avoid a war, though with a society still very much trained in battle, they were relatively confident in the country's ability to win a war. The problem was the loss of life involved, even if Amestris won.

Ed noticed the men and women from Drachma looking over his children carefully, analyzing him just as closely, apparently for comparison. Yes, those were his eyes, despite their coloring, on Nicholas's face, and yes, nearly half of Aideen's features were his own.

"Do you have a sister, Mr. Elric?"

With a slight sigh, Ed answered, "No. I do not. I am sure you've heard the stories of how these two came to be."

"We were in Daddy's belly," Nicholas said, rather loudly, interrupting Ed's train of thought.

"We had heard stories," one of the women said, "but we have difficulty believing that a man—"

Ed quickly pulled a small stack of photos from his coat pocket. "Roy took these for the twins, but we've had to make multiple copies to confirm the truth." Ed looked up at Roy, then watched as the nobles from Drachma looked at the pictures of Ed with his progressively more swollen stomach. "I would go into details of how it was possible, but the honest fact is that many of those details are rather embarrassing, not to mention a killer for appetites."

"I know that you have a law in your country that dictates a man must marry a woman he has gotten pregnant," Roy said. "Though Ed was unintentionally pregnant, the fact that we are married actually fits more with your own laws than if we weren't."

Quite pleased with the usually obnoxious logic that only Roy could use with such ease, Ed took Nicholas into his arms, quickly shifting the boy to his left hip. After all this time, the boy still didn't like Ed's metal limbs and occasionally asked him why he couldn't just have a human arm and leg like Papa and other daddies. The explanation was always difficult for the blond, but thankfully, there was too much for Nicholas to take in at the moment to concern himself with asking once again.

Roy took Aideen's hand in his own and the family joined a table of dignitaries and representatives, talking as casually as they felt they could despite a still-tense situation.

The meal was brought out in several courses, and the two fathers carefully helped the two little children eat the smaller portioned meals, their own getting cold. Nicholas bucked Ed once about having to eat broccoli and just as reluctantly as his son, Ed ate the stuff from his own plate, showing Nicholas it wasn't bad at all. Aideen very calmly ate every bite, reminding Nicholas from across the table that he wasn't going to get dessert if he didn't finish, and dessert was a big piece of chocolate cake with chocolate icing, though she didn't do it in quite so many words.

"No broccoli, no cake," she said as he finished one final bite of the green vegetable.

She had already eaten all of hers, chocolate cake being one of her personal favorites as well. The group sat and talked, Ed and Roy getting to eat some of their cold dinners—not that nearly every dinner since the birth of the babies hadn't ended up cold. Then, after a brief wait, the chocolate cake came, both children eyeing the dessert hungrily. Rather than trying to feed them the cake because they'd never do it fast enough, the two fathers tucked a napkin into the collar of the two children, then adding their own to protect the tiny gray suit and pale blue dress. Then, they handed each eager tot a spoon and let them have at it.

Ed prayed his children didn't make too much of a mess as he took his first bite.

"We should have let you keep your napkin," Roy teased when Ed dropped a piece of the cake loaded with icing down the front of his suit.

Ed was in the process of thinking up a smart remark, when he noticed that Nicholas had hardly started eating the cake. "Buddy, it's your favorite," he said. "Did you eat too much?"

"Belly hurts."

In a state of dread, Ed heard as Aideen dropped her own spoon, moving her hands down to hug her own stomach. "Daddy, it hurts." Ed grabbed Nicholas into his arms, feeling his son sweating, despite the fact that he felt cold to the touch.

"Please make it stop," Nicholas pleaded, eyes tearing up. Ed grabbed him into his arms and signaled for Roy to do the same. Something was wrong, very wrong with their children.

"Papa!" Aideen cried out as Roy carried her out of the dining hall. She held her hand over her mouth as Roy managed to turn her in time to vomit on the floor.

Roy yelled out to one of the guards. "Get my sister! NOW! Have her meet us at the hospital!"

Frantically, Roy and Ed climbed into their car, one of the guards already in the driver's seat and rushed off to the hospital, their children in their laps, crying in pain.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

_**Comfort **_

_**Munich**_

It had taken next to no time at all for Stephen to manage to get word to Hohenheim of their problem, and much to Wrath's surprise, the response came knocking at the main door of their apartment. Opening the door, he found himself faced with Roy Mustang, or at least this world's version of him.

"I need to speak to Stephen, is he in?" This Roy asked in German. "Tell him Roy Mustang is here."

"Sure." Thank goodness, after all this time in Germany, he'd learned more than a functional bit of German. "Please, have a seat. We have some beer, if you'd like some."

"No, thank you."

It was awkward for Wrath to have to be so formal with this man. He knew it wasn't the Roy Mustang of Amestris, not that he'd been all that close to him, but this man looked identical to the Roy he'd known, if not a tiny bit older looking and a little less lean, particularly around his midsection. Admittedly, his eyes also had a slight difference; obviously a man who'd seen his share of death, this Roy somehow lacked the harsh edge of someone who'd witnessed--hell, caused--it on the scale the Roy of Amestris did.

"I'll go get Stephen." Wrath started to leave when he saw Edward leaving the bedroom they shared. The blond looked over at the man on the sofa. "Edward, this is Roy Mustang."

Edward raised a blond eyebrow. Wrath knowingly looked at him, nodding, then watched as Edward made his way onto the chair opposite the black-haired man. It was nice to see him actually moving about the apartment, looking less like a shell of his former self since the news a few nights ago that Alfons had passed away. The rocket scientist had been discovered by some Officer Hughes, who had been checking on Edward's cousin to bring him meals from the woman who owned a shop on the street below his apartment.

For the first day, Edward hadn't really left his bed, aside from going to work. He hadn't eaten, hadn't really functioned at all.

The teenager knocked on Stephen's door. The older blond stuck his head out, as Wrath gestured to the man on the sofa. Stephen walked into the room, Roy immediately jumping up and saluting the man.

"Okay," Wrath said. "He's here. Do you have the information from Hohenheim?"

"I cannot disclose that to you." Roy looked to his superior officer.

"Roy," Stephen said, "I give you clearance to give the information to them." A set of blue eyes rolled in the older blond's head. "I'd forgotten how much of a stickler you were for the rules."

From beneath his coat, Roy pulled out several folded papers, handing them to Edward.

"He isn't the one who knows this stuff," Stephen said. Surprise apparent on the dark-haired man's face, Roy watched as Edward handed over the papers to the teen. Wrath looked over the sheets, barely noticing that Roy was sitting in silence.

"Edward, Ulysses, would you mind going into the other room? Roy apparently has something to say to me and won't do it until we at least of the semblance of being alone."

Wrath and Edward went into their bedrooms, Wrath immediately lighting a candle next to his tiny bed to look over the documents Hohenheim had sent him. It was rather reassuring that he had at least been on the right track and that everything he was reading made perfect sense. He glanced up at the door, where Edward was nosily listening to every word said outside. Wrath smiled, glad to see his friend acting a bit more like his usual self, despite the lingering grief.

"Edward," Wrath hissed.

"What?" he said with a smile. "You said that I was married to that man in the other world. What's wrong with listening in?"

The teenager didn't know why that thought bristled him as much as it did.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Numb.

That was the only word for it. Roy felt numb. He'd gone through the necessary movements, said and done what needed to be, but all the while, he felt… nothing. He wasn't allowed back with his children and was forced to sit in the waiting room on plain gray chairs in a white-walled space. He sat in a shirt and pants that Havoc had grabbed from his house on the way over, Al and Raine coming to the hospital so quickly, they hadn't been told that both Roy and Ed's clothes were soiled, if not ruined from the twins sudden and violent illness. Roy knew that either he or Ed had asked Havoc to get them. It was probably Ed, but Roy didn't remember.

He vaguely remembered having Fuery investigate everything about the dining hall and to question everyone there. Roy didn't know much about medicine, but there was a feeling, a parental intuition, he supposed, that told him his children hadn't gotten sick from a normal bug or virus. This came on within an hour of starting the meal, when they had both looked and acted perfectly healthy.

For now, all he could do was trust that Fuery, as head of military intelligence, could find out what happened and trust his sister in the nearby room working on the twins.

He didn't trust easily.

Roy looked around the room, Havoc standing from his place beside Gracia, where he'd sat for the last hour, one hand occasionally rubbing her distended belly protectively. Al was pacing, unable to keep that tall, lanky body of his still for more than a few minutes, unless it was to offer some comfort to Winry and Roy or to attempt some kind of comfort to his brother.

Ed astounded Roy, not to mention frightened him a bit with his calm demeanor and immediate move to take control of the situation.

"Jean," Ed said, "I need you to talk to the reporters outside. They're going to want a statement of some kind. Al, did you and Raine get any further on the research?"

"Huh?" the taller Elric said. "Oh, yeah, a little."

"Tell them that progress has been gradual on the research to prevent the attack from a week ago, but that it is still coming along. Tell them that we do not yet know the cause of the twins sudden illness, but it is being investigated by Lieutenant Colonel Cain Fuery and his team in military intelligence. At the moment, neither the fuhrer or I are showing any symptoms as our children presented, and there have been no reports that anyone else who attended the dinner have either. I have already received a phone call from Russell and Fletcher Tringham, but call them talented alchemists. I don't want anyone hearing that I'm turning over the research to two people younger than me. Tell them that two talented alchemists already familiar with some of the work will pick up on the research while the family deals with this crisis, and that the two alchemists are already on their way to Central."

Ed began running down a mental list, moving his finger as though to check off the imaginary inventory. "Give statement to press. Get Russel and Fletcher, call all of Roy's team," Ed mumbled to himself.

Roy couldn't watch his husband's calm any longer, and lowered his head so that he was looking at the floor. So he sat, in that hunched, puddle of a state, eyes—yes, even the fake one which was out of its covering—watering, but never actually crying.

"Roy!" Ed said, some time later, as though it wasn't the first time he'd said it. Perhaps, considering how hollow and incoherent as Roy was feeling, it hadn't been. His black eyes looking up at the blond. "Dr. Knox, Roy."

Roy stood from his seat where he'd collapsed earlier, walking mindlessly beside Ed, standing in front of the older doctor. "Well, Doc?" Ed said. Roy had tried to ask, but somehow, his mouth had gone dry and the words caught in his throat.

"First of all, it looks like Aideen will make a full recovery and will be in a room shortly, so you can see her."

"Nicholas?" Roy choked out his son's name.

"Your sister is still working on him. If he makes it through the night, we know we're out of the woods with him."

"What was it?" Ed asked, looking stoically calm.

"Rat poison, more specifically, arsenic."

Roy felt his legs wanting to buckle beneath him. Was being fuhrer worth this? Worth risking his own children for?

"How?" Roy managed, his normal articulateness gone, dwindled down to speaking a few syllables at a time.

"It was a very small amount, probably in something early on in the meal, the soup, or their drink. It could easily have been from a rodent tracking it across the dishes, and your food taster would probably have missed it in such a small amount."

"You keep calling it small," Ed said, "couldn't have been that damned small if both our children are this sick."

"It was enough that it could have cause serious damage to their liver and other organs, but not enough to kill either of them instantly." A nurse poked her head through a set of swinging doors, nodding. "Come on, you can see Aideen now."

Slowly, Roy trudged through the hallway, willing his legs to hold him upright and move him forward. The doctor went to a double-occupancy room, Roy at first seeing the empty bed still awaiting Nicholas, the other with his daughter already there, tubes and wires coming from her tiny arms and from under her shirt. The little girl's breathing slow and steady, the monitors keeping track of her stable heartbeat.

Finally, the numbness wore off, and Roy felt himself cry.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Edward listened in on the conversation between the two older men. This Roy guy was explaining to Stephen that the British government was trying to find some sign that the entire investigation into the Thule Society was beneficial. Stephen tried to convey to the younger man that it truly was important, without going into detail about the specifics of the group's activities.

Sighing, Edward sat on his bed opposite Wrath's, looking at the eager anticipation with which the teen read over the documents. At what point the blond had started to notice each of Wrath's little moves, tiny gestures, he didn't know, but like it or not, the dark-haired young man had started to fill up Edward's thoughts, in a way he'd been taught was very wrong.

Yet, somehow, the teen he'd known over these last few years had become a source of solace as he continued to grieve for his cousin. Despite the fact that his friend had gone by the name Wrath, and still seemed to at least in his head, it no longer seemed to be the brunette's dominant emotion any longer. He actually seemed quite gentle.

For a minute or two, Edward watched the violet eyes, which had begun to seem less wide as they had in his younger years as the face surrounding them matured, as they scanned over paper after paper, a satisfied smile growing on the pale face.

"I can actually do this. I think I can do this." Wrath looked up from the paper and saw Edward looking at him. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just nice seeing you this excited about something. You've been blaming yourself pretty badly since the gate opened."

Edward could hear Stephen's voice rising, something very uncommon for the usually calm older man. "Well, should we go out and do something?" Edward listened to that other man's voice, still low and calm and formal. "Are you sure I married this guy in your world?"

Wrath didn't answer immediately. "Well, you were going to when I left."

"Was he like that?" Edward stood again and went to the door, trying to imagine himself with someone considerably older, male, and so stuck on rules and obedience. Edward was no rebel, but honestly, he couldn't see himself with that man outside.

"He was a lot like that." Wrath stood and leaned against the door, listening in as closely as Edward was.

"I suppose he's handsome in his own way, but I think your Ed must have been very different from me."

"Why? Aside from the fact that you're not going to be with another man?" Wrath said, head so close to Edward's that the blond could feel the teen's breath against his face.

"I don't like older men."

With that, Edward took the risk and did what he'd wanted to do for nearly a year now. He kissed his friend.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris **_

Roy tried to hold back tears as he sat beside Aideen, letting her little hand wrap unconsciously around his thumb, his fingers rubbing over the top of her hand. He and Ed were taking turns with the twins, Nicholas still very much asleep, though Raine had assured the fathers that nearly all the poison was now out of the children's systems. There was still a risk with Nicholas, but both parents agreed that by morning, they could breathe a sigh of relief.

"Papa," a tiny voice said, somewhat scratchily.

Roy's dark eyes looked up to find a set of brown and gold looking back, though they had lost their luster. "Aideen, sweetie, you're awake."

"Uh-huh. Is Daddy here?"

Momentarily her daddy left their son's side of the room, Roy could feel Ed's hand on his shoulder. "I'm here, Aideen."

"My belly still hurts," she said, her voice so small, it was like something alien. "I hurt everywhere."

Roy pushed aside the dark hair from her forehead. If he could have taken it away, could have taken on her pain for her, he would have. But no, whoever had attacked had purposely gone after his children, targeted the two most defenseless members of his family.

Aideen was usually so strong when she hurt herself, but now, sick and suffering, she whimpered and held tightly to Roy's hand. Even as he tenderly ran his hand through her hair, in an attempt to soothe her, his thoughts kept turning to finding the person who'd done this and personally ripping them limb from limb.

As the night wore on, Ed maintained his calm demeanor, even into the early hours of the morning when Nicholas woke enough to say how much he hurt and that he was thirsty. While Roy sat beside the little blond, looking over at his once-again-sleeping daughter, Ed left the room. He was gone so long that finally, Roy had pulled away from the dark-eyed boy and gone out into the hall to track his husband down.

Outside, he found a puddle of water, Ed slumped on the floor against the wall, as though he'd slid down, empty glass tipped over in his hand. He was sobbing uncontrollably and didn't seem capable of stopping. Roy crouched beside him, careful to avoid the puddle, his hand tucking back some loose strands of hair.

"Ed, they're okay. They'll be fine."

"I know… I just… I couldn't…" Ed wiped his face on his sleeve. "not until I knew… until they were okay… or weren't."

"So you've been out here crying in silence? Ed," Roy said, wrapping his arms around the younger man, letting him cry into his chest.

A shadow was cast over them both as Al blocked one of the few sources of light in the dimmed hallway. "Brother, is it Nicholas? Has something gotten worse?"

"No, Al," Roy said, "he's just finally able to let it all out." Roy took the glass of water from Ed's hand, and lifted it up to the younger brother. "Can you get Nicholas a glass of water, just a small one. He's thirsty."

"Of course." Al took the glass. "I'm glad everything's okay." As he walked away, Roy saw Al unknowingly mimic his brother, wiping his right shirtsleeve across his eyes.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Wrath didn't know how to react. He'd never been kissed before and hadn't been expecting it at that moment, but Edward's lips felt good, really good against his own, and as the older, though just a bit shorter man tried to pull away, apparently thinking he'd done something wrong, Wrath wrapped a strong arm around the blond's waist, his other hand at the short hair near the man's neck.

He'd seen Ed kiss Roy before, and he remembered something about tongues making the kiss better, or at least making the Ed he'd known moan, so when he felt Edward's tracing over the crease of his mouth, he opened widely, hoping the older boy knew what he was doing. He felt Edward's tongue moving slowly at first around every inch of Wrath's mouth, making the teen grateful his teeth were normal and flat. He wouldn't have wanted the man to injure himself doing such a simple—not to mention wonderful—act. Finally, having nearly passed out from failing to breathe, Wrath looked up at his friend, noticing how swollen those thin but soft pink lips had become. After regaining his ability to draw air, Wrath placed his head on the smaller man's shoulder.

"That was…" Wrath inhaled. He tried to think of an answer, and all he could do was half moan, half hum against Edward's boney shoulder. He felt Edward's fingers wrapping themselves in his hair, which had begun to grow rather long.

"We shouldn't have."

"Why? Because some supposed god said it was wrong? Because your laughable religious leaders disagree with it?"

"Ulysses, we're not in your world. It isn't so easy here."

Wrath this time captured Edward's lips with his own. "I don't care about easy," he said, breaking their kiss. "I just…" He kissed Edward's neck. "I want…" He kissed again. He had always been a child that longed for affection, and now that he had it in front of him, he'd be damned if Edward was about to let some stupid social constraints hold either of them back. Part of Wrath didn't even care that the recent death of someone so close to Edward might have brought this on, as a new way to find comfort. He just knew that to him, it felt right like nothing had for a very long time.

However, they were both brought back to reality as Stephen's voice on the other side of the door grew exceptionally louder in an attempt to convey the dangers of the Thule Society to the Roy of this world, one who was missing out on something Wrath wasn't about to share.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

_**Ignorant Calm **_

_**Munich**_

"I do not think you understand," the British Roy said, who had now turned very formal and had dropped his German. "Intelligence thinks we are getting absolutely nothing from your time with the Thule Society. They want you to pull out."

Edward walked into the room, quickly grabbing a pad of paper and began writing. Roy looked over at Stephen, then to Wrath, who was trying to hide the pleased expression on his face.

"You want something to benefit the country?" Edward asked. "Give me about an hour. I'll give you every bit of the rocketry research I've done for the Thules."

Trying to hide the heat that came to his face watching the thin blond scribble on the paper taking authority over the situation, Wrath smiled to himself.

"And what of what this one's been teaching you?" the captain asked Stephen.

"You don't get any of that," Wrath answered. "The Thules are dangerous enough. I don't want any extra people knowing the stuff they do. It's dangerous."

"I am in complete agreeance," Stephen said. "Even if questioned by the top brass, I wouldn't divulge a word." Stephen's face grew serious. "And you know that I do not like to defy orders any more than you do, so I think you can imagine that what I am witnessing on a daily basis must be horrific."

This Roy nodded, saying very little else for the hour it took Edward to complete his illustrations and writing. "There," he said, handing Roy a stack of papers. "I think my hand is thoroughly cramped, but that is the latest update on what we're doing. I would give you one of my rockets, but I've purposely sabotaged them. As something else comes up, or as more information is available, I will have Stephen pass it along to you. And if your superiors try to pull him out of the society, I think they will be making a huge mistake."

Roy said very little else, not even exchanging much in the way of pleasantries with his superior officer before finally leaving to return to his home base with the information Edward had provided him.

It was already late, and Roy had not been gone for more than a few minutes when all three men decided it was time for bed. As he entered his bedroom with Edward at his side, Wrath looked over at the blond, searching the man's face. Edward shut the door behind them, then placed a hand on Wrath's shoulder.

"Is this the part where you tell me we can't do this?" Wrath asked.

"No, I think we've already been through that." Edward rolled his eyes. "If I remember right, you ignored me." Wrath let his hand move up to meet Edward's on his shoulder. "How old are you?"

With a half smirk, Wrath answered, "Fourteen or fifteen."

"Let's say fifteen. I have enough problems with what we just did, including the fact that you are an impressionable teenager. I'd just rather you not be _so_ young."

"Then, you don't want to stop?"

"I want time," Edward said, placing a kiss on Wrath's cheek. "I need to know that I'm not starting up because I'm still mourning Alfons." When he pulled away, sharp violet eyes couldn't help but see tears in the gold.

Wrath placed a hand at the back of Edward's head, thumb rubbing the blond's earlobe, fingers rubbing over the short blond hair. "Like you said, I'm an impressionable teenager. I've got plenty of time."

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris **_

_**Four days later**_

Carrying their children bridal style into the bedroom the twins shared, Ed and Roy entered, making their way to each child's distinctive twin bed, and gingerly laid the still-recovering tots on them. Roy tucked Nicholas under his solid green blankets, Ed laying Aideen on the yellow floral sheets and covering her protectively with them.

He'd really thought he'd lost them.

Ed didn't know why he felt the way he did, but to him, it was as though the universe was reminding him that the two most important things in his life shouldn't have been there, that they should have died with their mother when she was shot on the battlefield. There were so many risks those children had over come, many long before they were even born.

Aideen looked up at him, a faint smile on her soft features. "Love you, Daddy," she said as he kissed her forehead.

"Love you too." Ed ran his hand through her raven hair that had scattered itself on the yellow pillow. "Now, get some rest." Aideen nodded, drawing the covers up under her chin and curling her body into a little ball. Roy and Ed passed one another as they each made their way to the other twin, lightly letting their fingertips touch as they did. Reaching his son, Ed pushed aside the bangs that always seemed to get in Nicholas's eyes, then ran his hand down his little boy's arm. "You need your rest, too."

He leaned down, kissing Nicholas on the cheek, feeling the boy's arm around his neck, trying to squeeze, but obviously still without the energy to do it. Nicholas wasn't big on saying he loved someone, but the effort to hug Ed got the message across all the same.

He and Roy left the room, the older man closing the door behind them. Ed looked up at the exhausted face of his husband, wondering to himself if he looked nearly so drained. He certainly knew he felt it.

"I'm going to give Fuery a call. See if he's found anything."

Ed nodded, looking down the hallway at Al, who seemed to want something. Instinctively, the older brother went into the bedroom where he'd stayed the first few months at the house, before he and Roy had become a couple. Al had done little to the room, though he'd lived in it for nearly four years now. Smiling to himself, Ed noticed that a few of Aideen's stuffed animals and dolls had made their way in as well. Not even hers yet, she had made more changes to it than Al had in all of his time calling it his own.

"Well, Al, how's your head doing?"

"Still sore."

"Winry still cracking you on the head for transferring your soul to the armor? I mean, you deserved it for that stupid stunt, but still?"

"Um… no…" Al bit his bottom lip. Ed crossed his arms and looked up at his "little" brother, who stood opposite him, running his hand through the long sandy blond hair. "Ed, when Raine had finished with the kids, she noticed Winry hadn't been feeling very good…"

"Is she okay?" Ed asked, concerned his brother's fiancée and his childhood friend had somehow been given the same thing as the twins.

Al swallowed. "Um… yeah…"

"But…"

"But, you'regoingtobeanuncle."

Ed's already large gold eyes widened further, his mind and body forgetting nearly all exhaustion. "What was that, Al?"

"We only did it twice. Just twice, after we got engaged, and apparently, the second time, something, well, took, and you're going to be an uncle, and I'm going to be a father, and Auntie Pinako yelled at me over the phone." Al looked down at Ed, brown eyes resembling Black Hayate's at the moment. "And Winry keeps smacking me for it, and I'm scared shitless."

"Al, you just swore," Ed said, far more surprised by that than the news his brother had just told him. Al looked down at the floor. Ed threw his arms around his younger brother, patting the younger man on his back. "Congratulations, Al."

"Do you think I'll do okay?"

"Please, there's never been a more natural father in the world." Ed grinned broadly, Al returning it with a nervous, yet blissful smile.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Stephen could see the relief on Wrath's face every time he looked at the teenager, not to mention an incredibly content expression to accompany it. He supposed it was knowing that the alchemic symbols were ready, that all that was left was for Wrath to activate them—because Stephen apparently lacked _all_ natural talents in alchemy, despite an attention to detail and artistic ability that had allowed him to place the transmutations throughout the main chamber at the society—that the people in his supposed "world" were safe were all contributing to Wrath's overly pleasant and practically cheerful demeanor.

The older man still felt like he was missing out on something, like his two roommates were keeping something from him. It hadn't bothered him before when there were half truths told or he was asked to leave the room because it had always been done to keep that Roma, Noa, from detecting his true identity as a spy and inadvertently reveal plans between the two younger men or to tell the society something they shouldn't ever know about where Wrath came from, a place that Stephen felt was still very much on Earth, though definitely a place where alchemy wasn't simply made up of myths of Nicholas Flamel, philosopher's stones and turning metal into gold.

Perhaps if Stephen had been born with any fatherly instincts, he might have been able to use his age to his advantage. After all, he was old enough to be Wrath's father, nearly so with Edward, and he knew that Hohenheim had managed successfully enough to treat them like his own sons and got two much more open roommates in the process.

But that wasn't Stephen.

He managed to be kind to the two young men, managed to treat them like friends and consider them that. He just had to count on that being enough. Whatever they were trying to hide would come out sooner or later. This was not an interrogation, most certainly not the kind Stephen had become accustomed to during the Great War. He had learned patience over the time he'd been studying the Thules, and he would simply learn to use that same patience in his real life.

Sitting at his desk in the modest apartment he shared with the two, who were currently out getting groceries, Stephen turned his attention to finding a way to smuggle Wrath back into the society. It would be some time before the scientists had another order of parts of any kind, so the random crate would be seen as suspicious. Wrath was about the same age as a few of the younger members of the group and might have been allowed to join, but he actually had the ability that Stephen lacked, not to mention more knowledge than even that bitch Eckhart had on the so-called science. It couldn't be risked that the teenager might be used.

The only option left was to put Wrath in with the group Eckhart had very little to do with: the rocket scientists. The teen was strong as hell, shoulders and back broader than Stephen's own, and he wasn't even done growing. He could lift and tug more than some of those frail-looking scientists, as well as knowing exactly what he was doing in the process. As though looking up to his older brother, the amethyst-eyed teen had always listened carefully to what Edward taught him about his studies in rocketry and fuel.

It didn't sit well with the intelligence officer, as he sat rubbing his temples, that the teen would be so close to that crazy woman, but there was no choice. If Wrath's world had the kind of alchemic weapons he said it did, then Stephen certainly didn't want to see a potential enemy getting through the gate to retrieve them.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy had just hung up the phone, Fuery couldn't talk to him at the moment, the rather intuitive man was currently working on a lead that someone had been bragging about poisoning the two small children upstairs. Sitting in the study, wanting to hit something, anything and pretend it was this bastard who was actually boasting about injuring his children, he noticed as Ed entered, an odd combination of expressions on his face. The anger was still lingering, as was the worry, but there was something else.

"Any word?" the blond asked.

"No, but Fuery's pretty sure he's on the right track."

Ed pulled Roy closely with his flesh arm, squeezing him tightly. "Are you prepared for more little children running around this place?" Roy glanced down at Ed, then his stomach. "Not me, you idiot. All those organs are gone. And it isn't happening again, even if it could… unless you plan on carrying them, Fuhrer Bastard." Ed actually smiled genuinely for the first time in days. "I mean, we're going to be uncles."

"Raine?" Roy asked instinctively, under the seemingly natural assumption that Al was still a virgin.

"No," Ed said, then with the afterthought, "though I'd love to annoy her as much as she did me with the twins." His brows met in a small furrow. "Calling me Baby. Hell, she still calls me Baby."

"Then, Al?" Roy asked, watching as a blond ponytail bobbed as Ed nodded. "He's still so young."

"Three years older than I was, Mustang," Ed said, turning Roy so they were standing face to face and Roy could see the half grin to let him know that Ed was returning to the old name as a playful gesture.

"He just seems so much younger than you were, even at sixteen, Fullmetal."

The two kissed, nothing more than a quick peck, then they stood, Ed's arms wrapped around Roy's waist, Roy's over the smaller man's shoulders. Roy knew they needed this, both of them, just a moment to embrace without feeling like they were comforting one another, though truthfully they were. They needed it because in all honesty, things had been crappy at their best the last few days, and at the moment, Roy wondered if Ed felt like he needed Roy's support just to stand upright at the moment as much as Roy felt he needed Ed's.

The phone rang in the kitchen. Reluctantly pulling from the blond's grasp, Roy moved away to answer it. He heard Fuery's voice at the other end. "Sir. We have him. He gave a full confession, sir. He continues to brag of how he did it. I'm bringing him to the jail now."

Roy thanked the lieutenant colonel, then returned to Ed. "Kain thinks he's found the man who did this."

"Good," Ed said, running to the hall for his red coat, pulling it off of the little rack by the door.

"Ed, I need to be there, and one of us has to stay in case the children wake up."

"Al can—"

"The children want either you or me right now, you know that."

"But why do you get to go. I want to spit in the bastard's face, just before I punch him in it." Ed tightened his metal hand into a fist.

"Ed, I'm going as fuhrer, not as a father who wants to rip the man limb from limb, and I do, Ed. I want to torture him, make him suffer, but I can't. Besides, we can't risk you getting yourself locked up when the twins need you so much right now."

"I refuse to—"

"You need to stay, Brother," Al said from down the hallway. "Aideen's already starting to rally, and she's going to want one of her fathers there with her."

Ed looked up at Roy quite seriously. "If I hear you didn't so much as yell at this man, you are sleeping on the couch for the next month."

Al walked by Ed, grabbing a long black coat, then looked up at Roy. "I'm going with you."

Roy didn't argue with the soon-to-be-father, particularly when the fact that his little brother was going along seemed to placate Ed, just a bit.

Together, Roy and his brother-in-law walked out to the car, driving to the jail. The ride was silent, though under normal circumstances, Roy had few problems talking to the teen, and certainly after finding out that Al and Winry were going to be parents, there would have been no difficulty finding a topic. But these weren't normal circumstances, and honestly, the older man got the feeling that despite his usual passive attitude, the younger Elric's temper was flaring just as much as the elder.

Arriving at the prison in time to see the man, thin, wiry and looking to be of partial Isballan heritage, being brought into the jail, Roy watched in shock as the tall teen threw open the door, jumped out of the car, and almost immediately began assaulting the prisoner.

No, assaulting was far too kind a word for what Roy was witnessing. Al was kicking the shit out of the bastard, and Roy was fighting a smile while ordering the nearby soldiers to pull the powerful martial artist off of the man.

Ed had never been so proud as the moment he'd heard his little brother had attacked the asshole who had hurt his children. It was a moment he knew he shouldn't have been feeling particularly impressed with his little brother, and one where he should have reminded himself that at the minimum, Al would be spending several nights in jail for his attack. But he couldn't help it. No downside or reminder of proper behavior worked to squash the feeling of genuine delight at the mental images of Al pounding the man into the dirt.

Already having called Winry, Ed's first request had been that she not injure his little brother any further for this attack. To Ed's surprise, Winry seemed insulted that Ed thought she would be angry. Apparently, the only thing his childhood friend was angry about was the fact that Al had already beaten the man up and she hadn't gotten to take a nice, large wrench to the man's head.

Though Ed was growing antsy being at home when he wanted to be congratulating and thanking his younger brother as well as taking a few shots at the asshole who'd nearly killed his kids, Al had been right that Aideen had rallied and was now wanting her daddy at her side at all times. Scooping the little girl into his arms, he'd brought her downstairs, making a comfortable spot for her on the leather sofa of the study, getting her a drink and a piece of toast.

Together, they listened to one of her favorite radio shows, and Ed loved that she had the energy to laugh at it, cornball jokes or not. It was good to hear the soft giggles coming from those pink lips between tiny nibbles of the toasted bread. Swallowing thickly, Ed tried not to think of how close he'd come to never hearing that again. He also fought not to show how mad he was at the person who had nearly made him lose her. Aideen was far too perceptive, and he didn't want her to think he was angry at her.

"Ed," a man's voice said from the hall. Ed looked up to see Russell, still a year younger and foot taller than Ed, and Fletcher, who was only fifteen, but showed no signs of catching up to his older brother any time soon in his own height. "Ed, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Aideen raised a crumb-covered hand to wave at the Tringham brothers, Fletcher immediately coming over while Ed patted his daughter on her head before going to talk to Russell. Aideen trusted the gentle younger brother, at least enough when she knew her daddy was in another room.

Going into the library with Russell, who shut the door behind them, Ed looked up at the younger man. "Well…" "We're not much closer on how to block the gate, but I know you were concerned about those suits going after your kids."

"Roy said I was being ridiculous."

"I don't think you were," Russell said, folding his arms across his chest. "I think you may have been right. After meeting Al when he was still in the armor, I studied what you'd done, and I found that when it isn't done properly, suits of armor will seek out sources of alchemy, either alchemists themselves or a powerful transmutation. Since these kids are yours and the fuhrer's, I'm guessing they would be pretty powerful. The suits really could have been seeking them out. And, in their concern over what was going on, who knows if they were accidentally luring the armor there."

The thought crossed Ed's mind, considering the poisoning, that maybe another alchemist had baited the suits to the building as well, but there was no proof of that. The man who'd poisoned the children said he was acting alone to prove a point, and there was no evidence an alchemist was after the twins.

"I appreciate this," Ed said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his brown pants, "but why bring it up now?"

"Since the twins are recovering, it might be time to start thinking about teaching them alchemy, so they can learn to control whatever natural ability they have."

Ed knew he was right, but considering how much trouble it had caused him so young, he was more than a little reluctant.

0o0o0o0

Later that night, Dante rose from her bed, stretching stiff muscles. Poisoning the twins had been a risk, but a calculated one. It had the two fathers thoroughly distracted, and the Tringham brothers were nowhere near as familiar with the research as the shrimp was. Never would she have expected that someone would have taken credit for the attempt, but it suited her just fine. She could continue to fly under the radar with the assumption in Central that she was long since dead. Also, Al's momentary lapse into an Ed-like rage had him locked away and out of her hair for a little while.

But she knew she didn't have long. She had to activate the gate quickly, with as little disturbance as possible. In her hands, she held stacks of paper and books, all the necessary research to make the rift more powerful, able to withstand a block, as it seemed inevitable was going to happen on this side of the gate.

Now it was just a matter of opening the Gate for herself.

_**Munich**_

It was late when Dietlinde Eckhart was wandering through the main chamber at the society. She was rather pleased to hear that the young head scientist had discovered another interested in rocketry and helping their cause that was not only a bright young teenager, but strong as an ox. They'd already brought him in, and he, like all of the rocket scientists, commented on the designs that covered the walls and ceiling in the main chamber, but obviously had no idea of their intention. All the better for him.

From what she'd found out through her own connections, the teen had been living with the head scientist and Stephen, the society's most avid researcher, but she was rather pleased to realize that Stephen had kept his word to keep all actions at the society a secret.

Much to her own dismay, she found a rift, small, considerably smaller than the one she'd created, opening up in the floor. Through the rift a stack of bound papers and books was practically thrown into the chamber. They were addressed from someone named Dante, and this person seemingly knew more about alchemy than Dietlinde could ever dream. With a smile, she looked through the books and papers, realizing the work that had gone into this, wishing the rift had remained open long enough to thank the person who'd sent them.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy could feel a gentle nudge against his leg, rallying him from a much-needed sleep. He turned to find Aideen standing at the side of his bed.

"Nichlas had a bad dream. He made noises and woke me up," she whispered, but waking Ed all the same. "Can I sleep in here with you?"

Roy sat up in bed, gently lifting his daughter under her arms and placing her at the center of the bed, noticing that Ed was already walking out the door. Aideen snuggled up closely to her papa, letting out an almost unconscious sigh of contentment as he protectively put an arm around her. It wasn't long before Ed returned, Nicholas in his arms.

"He wanted to come in too," Ed said, laying the boy beside his sister, then climbing into the bed beside him. Roy felt Ed's left hand lacing his last two fingers with Roy's as his own arm was shielding their son. Hearing the gentle breathing of the two tiny bodies between them, Roy could hear as Ed's own grew deeper, gradually lulling himself into a quiet and relaxed slumber.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Oh, and I'm giving Ed and Roy middle names here. I'm almost certain I got Ed's wrong and couldn't find one for Roy, but this was for fun. _

**Chapter 10 **

_**New Developments **_

_**Amestris **_

_**Seven Months later**_

Ed and Roy carried their children out of the Rockbell's house, as Raine walked by them, grumbling to herself, having made the long car ride from where she'd been working at a nearby clinic. Al and Winry had arranged with her to deliver the baby at Winry's family home, and in the meantime, Raine had worked with some local doctors dealing with local health issues and alternative methods of treating them, meaning that essentially, Raine had been bored out of her mind.

"Had to have the damned baby here in the boonies. Couldn't have had it in a state-of-the-art hospital in Central. No, Gearhead had to have her baby here at her Grandma's house."

"Auntie?" Nicholas asked, looking up at Raine. "Are you mad at Aunt Winry?"

"No, Squirt," Raine said, patting the tiny blond head, "just anxious for your little cousin to get here."

"Me too," the little boy said.

"So's Al," Ed said. "Every time Winry lets out a yell, he does too. And the things she's calling him, well, I think he'll be a shade of bright red for a week." Raine laughed a bit as she went into the house.

"Why is Aunt Winry yelling so much at Uncle Al?" Aideen asked as she squirmed slowly out of Ed's arms, her daddy trying not to wince as she accidentally pulled on some of his unbound hair as he lowered her to the ground.

"Because Aunt Winry's really nervous about having a new baby to take care of," Roy said, letting Nicholas down to the grassy ground as well.

For a while, the twins managed to entertain themselves, running around, playing a game they seemed to be making up on the spot. Still close enough to the house, the married couple could hear Winry from inside, in the room where her mother had delivered her, calling Al names that made even Ed blush.

"She has a mouth on her," Roy said, turning his head to hear.

"I don't know what I'm so shocked to hear, Winry saying some of those words, or the combinations she's using them in." There was another loud string of curses. "Damn. I didn't know it was possible to put that many livestock and curse words into one sentence."

Roy nodded, Ed feeling the slight pressure as the older man held his automail hand. "The one about the goats was different."

"I just hope someone has hidden all of her heavy tools. In the middle of delivery or not, I think she'd crack Al over the head with one if she could get her hands on it."

Ed readjusted their hands so that their arms were wrapped around one another slightly, putting Roy's at Ed's side, where the younger man could actually feel him.

"Do you ever think about having more?" Roy asked, as they stood, watching the twins doing somersaults in the grass, each determined to one-up the other.

"You carrying them?" Ed asked, putting his cheek to Roy's shoulder.

"I mean adopting, Ed."

"I don't know. I know we have a lot and could give a kid a pretty good life, but… well… there are a lot of risks being our children." Ed fought back a brief shudder as a memory from less than a year ago resurfaced. "And besides, Winry's had a rough time of this pregnancy. Al's already said they want a big family, but they don't want to risk her health. I think if anyone does any adopting, it's probably going to be them."

Their discussion was interrupted as Aideen stood, coat off and apparently shoved under her shirt. "Look, I'm Aunt Winry."

Not to be outdone, Nicholas quickly did the same. "I'm Daddy."

Ed groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he'd gradually picked up from Roy, who was currently at his side, chuckling. With a quiet hiss, Ed looked up at the dark-haired man. "Shut up, Fuhrer Bastard."

Roy only laughed a bit harder, then kissed Ed on the top of his head.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Over six months and Wrath was beginning to feel like he was going to explode. He knew Edward wanted to take things at a slow pace. He just hadn't anticipated it would be this _achingly_ slow. He was a teenager, and his hormones were wildly screaming at him to go beyond these little moments of kissing and nibbling. But Edward was still trying to accept everything that was going on between them, giving Wrath time to gather his own thoughts, ones that usually left him a little disturbed.

There had been the realization that he had felt a brotherly bond with Ed in his world (Maybe even that of a parent and child had Ed not been so close to Wrath's own age.) And it had made him wonder why, then, did he feel so differently about Edward. There were all kinds of sick, twisted questions he had asked himself, including one that made him wonder if he really did feel differently about Edward. Maybe he would have been drawn to Ed the same way, or maybe there was something really wrong with him and he still felt like a brother to the man he kissed and touched each night.

But, no, Wrath realized some time ago that at the point he'd seen the differences in the two blonds, he'd stopped feeling like Edward's little brother and more like a friend. He actually liked the differences between them, Edward's taller, yet leaner frame; much more innocent eyes; calm demeanor; and easy laughter.

Then a few days ago, after Edward had given the Roy of this world another update on the rocketry, he'd made a confession that nearly crushed Wrath: Edward did feel a pull towards this man, an attraction that seemed to go beyond the fourteen year age difference and the man's unmatched arrogance. Why wouldn't he? After all, the two had been together in Wrath's world. And the teenager had kicked himself for thinking that he could somehow circumscribe all of that by being the one with Edward. Thinking it would be a consolation to the teen, Edward told him that he had no intention of being the source of an adulterous affair. Wrath really didn't want that to be the only reason and had yelled at Edward for the first time that night.

Because of that, he was making his teenaged hormones even more upset with him, barely talking to, let alone kissing the shorter blond. He hated being around Edward, day in and day out, seeing him every waking minute and feeling so mad at him, even a little hurt.

He left his room to join Edward and Stephen at the dinner table, the older man looking between the two of them for a moment, then saying nothing.

"So," Wrath said, addressing Stephen, "what new plans does that crazy woman have now?"

"I don't think she's so crazy. Somehow, she's managed to figure a way to break the block on the gate."

"And that is?" Wrath said, setting his fork down on the table, looking at the older man in concern.

"She realized that our chimera wasn't strong enough to keep the gate open for a long period of time, but something with real power, perhaps the genuine article, might be able to sustain the gate long enough that it naturally broke the blocks."

Wrath said nothing at first. It had come as a bit of a shock when Stephen had come home telling them all that Eckhart had realized something had blocked the gate, though she assumed it had only been done on this side. Finally, he spoke up. "The real thing?"

"That thing you call Envy, I believe. She has people out trying to capture him as we speak."

"Well, I know Envy, and he won't make it easy for them to catch him." Wrath returned to eating his meal, though he played with it more than anything.

"Do they realize that Envy's chasing someone?" Edward asked.

"They suspect, but don't know what. I'll get the information to Hohenheim. Don't worry." Edward nodded. They continued to eat their meal in near quiet, Stephen finally slamming down his silverware. "I don't know what the hell you two have decided to argue about, but this bloody lover's spat has to stop!"

Nervously, the two younger roommates looked at him.

"L-lovers?" Edward asked.

"Yes. I figured it out months ago and remarkably managed to keep quiet, though the two of your could be a little more quiet whenever you're doing… whatever it is you do in that room of yours together." Stephen nervously pulled at the sleeves of his white shirt, apparently feeling that statement had gone into incredibly awkward territory.

Wrath felt his face and neck grow hot, the inescapable blush coming to his cheeks and certainly covering his entire body. "The walls are paper thin. You're just lucky we live above a store that's closed at night."

"We haven't… I mean, we've never…" Wrath couldn't even stutter out an argument.

"I don't want to know the sordid details," Stephen said, standing from the table, looking down on them like a disgruntled father. Though it seemed to have little effect on Edward, Wrath, knowing this man was over twenty years his senior, began to slink down in his seat. "I just want this," Stephen waved his hand between the two of them. "to stop making my life miserable. So either make up or break up because I'm not spending another dinner with the two of you in silence. It was worse than noticing the sideways glances and shy little smiles."

"But…"

Stephen waved his unsaid question away with his hand. "I have seen far too much to give a damn what the two of you do in your bedroom, and I never really felt that God was that much of a peeping tom either." Then he muttered to himself. "Whenever I feel there might be one."

Wrath rose and went to the bedroom, looking back at Edward in a silent request he join him. Edward rose from the table.

"Three knocks on the wall means you're being too loud," Stephen said from his place at the sink.

Looking back at Edward, Wrath couldn't help but notice beneath the fringe of blond hair, his face was entirely red.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed watched as Roy tossed Nicholas into the air and caught him, the boy laughing and squealing at the thrill. He felt a gentle tugging on his pinkie and looked down to see Aideen.

"Daddy, can you throw me like Papa and Nicholas?"

Ed shook his head. "I could hurt you with my right hand if I did." He'd tried once before, and accidentally bruised the girl when she'd been smaller than this. Aideen looked up at him, making her usually almond eyes nearly as wide as Nicholas's, her bottom lip poking out just a bit further than the top. "No, sweetie. I don't want to hurt you." Ed ruffled her hair a bit, something he knew she disliked about as much as he did. "Go as your papa."

"But… it's so high when he does it."

Ed raised an eyebrow. His daughter had just called him short. Looking up and beyond the black-haired girl, he saw Roy tight-lipped, still holding Nicholas partly over his head, ready for another throw. Ed glared at him, his eyes daring the older man to say a word, just one word.

"Ed!" he heard a woman call. Looking over to the nearby road, he saw a mother and son, Rose and Phillip. She was smiling, waving, looking happier than Ed could remember. It had been almost a year since the last time he'd seen the woman, who'd moved to Risembool some time after Lior had been rebuilt. The people there who had once treated her so kindly, were less than that since the destruction of the desert town, blaming her for her involvement in the whole ordeal with Scar.

Roy put Nicholas on the ground so that he and his sister could run and pounce the raven-haired little boy at Rose's side as she ran to Ed to greet him with a hug.

"It's so good to see you," she said, warmth in her voice that had nearly been taken away by the bastard soldiers who'd attacked her.

"Same here."

Roy came closer, extending a hand, which Rose shook. Had it not been for the events that led to her little boy, Ed thought, the older man might have received a friendlier greeting by now, but as the archetypical symbol of the military, it was little wonder that the woman was still a bit wary around him.

"Is Winry inside?" she asked. "I got a phone call from Pinako saying the baby was on its way."

"Yes," Roy said, taking a seat on the grass, still watching the children play, "little… what are they naming her again, Ed?"

"Sasha, Roy. Is your memory really that bad, old man?"

"Sasha Edwena." Roy shook his head. "Poor girl."

"I thought it was nice they combined Sara and Trisha," Rose said.

"And what's wrong with them wanting to name her after me?" Ed said, kicking Roy in the thigh with his boot.

"But Edwena… I guess it's better than Eduarda or Edna. They looked at both of those, too."

Ed mussed up Roy's hair just a bit. "You're right." He bent down and kissed Roy's forehead, grateful that at least here, the man didn't feel the need for the damned patch. "Irving is so much better."

Roy glowered at Ed, pulling him down to sit on his lap. "Get down here, Warren."

"Irving," Ed repeated as Roy continued to glare. From above, Rose just shook her head, keeping a hawk-like watch over her son. Almost sing-songing it, Ed continued to repeat Roy's hated middle name, until finally the older man silenced him with a very forceful kiss.

"And you two have been married how long now?" Rose asked.

From his position, Ed looked up at her, head leaned back so far she appeared upside down. "Four years."

"And you still act like newlyweds?"

"We didn't exactly get to do the whole dating thing," Ed said. "So we haven't gotten tired of one another yet." Then, there was the sound of Nicholas's whining.

"Oh," Rose said, making her way down the hill, "he broke a toy."

The three parents made their way down to the children, Ed fully prepared to fix the toy with alchemy when he heard Aideen.

"Stop crying, Nicholas."

"I'm not crying," he said as he watched, along with the other adults, in stunned silence as Aideen clapped her hands and slapped them to the ground, creating a tiny alchemic reaction that put the toy soldier back intact.

"Aideen," Ed said, "where did you learn to do that?"

"I watched you do it, Daddy. I put it back together like Nicholas wanted."

The two fathers exchanged questioning looks.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Edward stood in front of the door of his bedroom, looking over at Wrath, who had taken to pulling his hair back into a short ponytail. "I chose my words very poorly," Edward said, turning his head down toward the floor. "I am sorry."

Nervously, the smaller man extended a hand to the teen, rubbing over the sinewy arm beneath the blue shirt. He loved Wrath's build, that lean, muscular frame, yet with a height that was quickly overtaking Edward's own petite build. Wrath said he'd inherited the height from his father, but the build from his mother. Personally, Edward wanted to thank them both, because as the teenager aged, and the eyes looked less wide, and the features became more that of an adult, there were times when it would take the blond's breath away, just momentarily.

Really, Edward didn't understand why exactly he'd said what he did. Of course, he felt a pull toward Roy Mustang. The man was handsome and Wrath himself had been telling Edward stories that in another world, he was engaged to Roy. But that Roy was not married to a woman named Riza. That Roy was not raised in a world where homosexuality was reason for murder. That Roy was not here.

And Wrath was not there.

Edward took the risk that at least at the moment, Wrath was not so furious with him that he wouldn't be allowed to touch the dark-haired teen. He wrapped his arms around Wrath, though was disappointed that the embrace was not returned. Dipping his head down to put it on Wrath's shoulder, partially wishing it hadn't been such a small move and missing the days when he looked the teen in the eyes, he said quietly, "I never finished my thoughts that day."

"What do you mean?"

"I never told you that even though there was a lot standing between Roy and myself as a couple here, you were the biggest reason. That maybe the reason Ed and Roy in your world are together is because you aren't there."

Then, Edward felt two hands, large and strong, grasping at his back. He tilted his head up, finding Wrath looking at him intently, eyes searching his face for something, maybe to see if he was, in fact, telling the truth. Seeming satisfied with what he saw, Wrath squeezed Edward's thin body tightly, then moving to capture thin lips, but breaking the kiss quickly after it had started.

"You really mean that," he said, more a statement than a question. Edward could only nod, feeling Wrath once again kiss him, tongue seeking entry, their feet moving toward the bed. This was routine, at least the act, but they'd never gone any further than kissing one another, removing their shirts. Part of that was due to Edward's own lack of knowledge on how to continue, not to mention Wrath's age. He felt like he was taking advantage of the teen, despite the fact that once again, he found himself to be the first one landing on the bed. But despite routine, tonight felt different.

The blond felt it was up to him to make up to Wrath for their argument, slowly flipping positions, having to guide more so than force his considerably stronger lover beneath him. He straddled Wrath, placing light kisses over pale forehead, ruddy cheeks, down to the beginnings of stubble at the jaw line. And while the younger man seemed to be enjoying himself, Edward couldn't help but be amused by the astonished look in those deep violet eyes. He began unbuttoning that blue shirt beneath him, slipping his hands inside, running them over the pale chest, feeling those two calloused hands working at his own.

Edward moved down, straddling over hips now. He moved Wrath's hands aside from their work on his white dress shirt and leaned down to kiss down Wrath's neck and chest.

To gain better balance, he lowered himself to sit at Wrath's hips, nearly squeaking as he felt a slight hardness beneath him. Wrath looked away, slightly embarrassed, and though it surprised the older man, he had to admit it was nice to know that he incited the same reactions in the teen as he felt for the brunette. Those very same reactions were gradually making themselves known as he felt himself hardening, yet Edward ignored his own needs for the moment, moving further down Wrath's legs and watching the still-maturing face for signs that he should stop. Seeing none, Edward unfastened Wrath's pants and slowly slid his hand inside, that black head throwing itself back at the mere contact as Edward felt the nest of curls and fully hard member beneath.

He used his other hand to pull the pants down, with Wrath's more than eager help, to expose the teen in the open, finding himself stopping his movements entirely to stare at the sight before him. The teen looked absolutely lost in lust, chest heaving, shirt open, revealing the muscular body beneath, the black curls that nestled around a rather impressive length, particularly for one that had yet to finish growing. It was red and at full attention, the hips beneath it bucking, reminding Edward to move the hand that encircled it.

"Tell me if I'm doing anything wrong," he said. "I've only done this to myself."

"Just move," Wrath said, one hand gripping the blankets on the bed, the other grasping Edward's wrist and forcing him to slide his hand over the shaft. Obediently, the older blond moved, changing his grip, moving in ways he knew he enjoyed, feeling the strong hips moving upward, fighting gravity in need for more contact, for faster speed. Edward's hand was growing slick with each movement, and he could feel Wrath's muscles begin to tense, a moan low in that throat. Edward didn't do this to himself often, but he knew well enough to know his lover was close.

Finally, one final movement of Edward's thumb and Wrath was shooting, yelling out Edward's name. It was quickly followed by three rapid knocks on the wall, making both men in the bedroom turn into fiery red beacons of embarrassment.

0o0o0o0

When Stephen had suggested they make up, he had never considered they would really require him to bang on the wall to get them to be quiet.

Unfortunately for him, it left Stephen with a not so little problem of his own. One that he was capable of ignoring, but was painful enough he simply wanted to be done with it. And the man had gone far too long with nothing in the way of sex for his body to be denied now.

Quickly putting away the dishes, he went to his bedroom, hoping just to face them in the morning, when they would be the only ones embarrassed.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Marveling at their daughter, Ed and Roy tried to explain to the children what had just occurred, realizing that the first lesson in alchemy was coming a little sooner than they'd expected to have to give it. In surprise, Rose listened as the two men explained the workings of alchemy to the children, not seeming to care that her own son was getting the lesson as well.

Roy looked over at the prodigy he'd married, looking at the metal arm and leg that had come from too much information too soon. But what could they do? Ed had managed to perform his first transmutations at the age of six, but that was because he'd been reading books on the subject for two years. Their children seemed naturally inclined to it, obviously, since Aideen had been able to not only create a transmutation but to do it without a circle.

There were any number of reasons why she could, why her brother probably could as well. After all, they had been to the Gate, helped Ed communicate with it, and were the children of two alchemists and the daughter of one. Hell, they'd ended up surviving their mother's death because of an alchemic transmutation. Perhaps Roy and Ed had been naïve to expect the twins to have a bit longer before alchemy became a part of their lives.

"Hey, you two, if you want to see your niece, she's finally made her appearance!" Pinako called from the front porch. Roy grabbed Nicholas, Ed throwing Aideen onto his hip, with Rose close behind with Phillip. Ed was first to the porch, running quickly up the porch steps, into the house, while Roy was yelled at by his son to move faster, that Daddy was beating them. Entering the house, Rose remained downstairs, while Roy took Nicholas up the same path Ed had taken to the second floor.

He found Al in a cot of his sister's design, out cold.

"He passed out about halfway through," Raine said, moving with smelling salts in her hand to rouse the new father.

Roy looked up at Winry, who looked nearly as exhausted as Ed had after the twins, blond hair plastered to her forehead, a pink bundle in her arms. The little baby had next to no hair on her head, save for a faint dusting of brownish-blond fuzz. Her eyes were mere slits of what looked might be green one day, tiny fists near her cheeks.

"This is your little cousin."

"But, she's too little to play with," Nicholas said.

"She's just a baby," Roy explained to their boy. "Just like you used to be."

Ed looked down at Winry. "How are you, aside from feeling like you've just squeezed a watermelon out of yourself?"

"Happy," she said, grabbing at Ed's automail hand.

There was a faint groaning from the back of the room as Al sat up. He had a strangely goofy smile on his face as he stood, making his way to Winry and the baby, staggering a bit.

"Not so fast, there Tenderheart," Raine said, grabbing his arm, guiding him to his wife's side.

"That's my little girl?"

"No, she's on loan," Winry said with a tired roll of her eyes. "Of course it's yours."

Ed could see Al tear up, running a hand over each of the tiny girl's features.

"Were we that small, Daddy?" Aideen asked at Ed's hip, the blond nodding in response as she rested her head at his shoulder.

"We should leave the new parents alone for a while," Roy said. He reached across the bed, patting Al on his back as Ed leaned down to kiss Winry on her forehead. The blond moved around to Al, giving him as firm a hug as he could with the one arm available.

"Congratulations, little brother."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 **

_**Intimidation **_

_**Amestris **_

_**Two years later**_

Nicholas chased after his sister, snapping his fingers inside of his papa's much-too-large gloves, a tiny flame leaping up from his fingertips, Aideen putting up a stone barrier immediately. She poked her head out around the barrier, sticking her tongue out at the blond.

"Missed me."

The six year old boy ran and leapt over the barrier. Nearly ready to attack again, he held his hands up, ready to snap when he heard coming from the lab, "NICHOLAS MAES MUSTANG!!!" Aideen started to laugh at him, black ponytail bobbing. "Aideen Riza, you're in as much trouble as your brother, so don't make fun!"

Nicholas watched as Aideen's smile faded and she turned back to the lab, to the source of their daddy's very angry voice. Walking out, white labcoat on, hair braided back, Nicholas looked up at his father, who had extended his metal hand.

"Give me back the gloves, Nicholas." As quickly as he could, the little boy ripped the gloves from his hands and placed them in the metal one opposite him. "How did you get these?"

"Papa's desk," Nicholas said, looking down at his feet as he tucked one behind the other and rubbed the back of his right leg with his left foot.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if you had hit your sister?"

"He wouldn't have hit me," Aideen said. "I'm too fast."

"You're not helping yourself, miss." Nicholas felt himself being grabbed by the collar. "Get over here." Nicholas looked in surprise as his sister hesitated. "Aideen. Now."

"But… but he was the one with the gloves."

"And you were playing with him."

The boy watched his twin walk in front of them, kicking pebbles as she went. He really wasn't looking forward to what was to come, which was probably why he was being dragged into the house, to prevent him from running away, though he still tried, nearly choking himself in the process.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Wrath stood, pulling at his collar, glancing over his shoulder at his boyfriend, lover, whatever. The teen could never begin to express his gratitude to their older roommate for being as understanding as he had been about their relationship. But not only was he understanding or in denial, he was supportive, for example, the older man was willing to do exactly as he was tonight, acting as their third wheel. There were already enough stories about Edward, his sometimes less-than masculine behavior at times at work without him being seen alone with Wrath in public. It was nice that Stephen was willing to go out for what he termed "boys night" and go see a show or something, letting the two lovers have a date.

Putting on his suit coat, Wrath buttoned up, then turned completely to Edward, who was still tying his bowtie.

Wrath loved those ridiculous little things he wore, making him seem so much more the scientist that he was. Wrath wrapped his arms around the blond, his chin only an inch or so off from being able to comfortably rest on the shorter man's head.

"Stephen is going to be waiting," Edward said, resting his head against Wrath's cheek. The teen loved the feeling of that blond head, hair far softer than his own. Edward's hand darted up to Wrath's hair, wrapping a finger around one of the thin black braids. "Your mother really wore her hair like that?"

He nodded a rough cheek against the soft blond strands.

"People think it looks strange."

"But they aren't going to say anything." Wrath kissed Edward's temple. "They're too afraid I'd hurt them. Besides, the only opinion that matters is yours."

Edward fingered the braids again. "They're a little odd," He turned around, still in Wrath's embrace. "but I like them." The blond moved his hands to wrap his fingers in dozens of tiny braids. "They suit you." Wrath leaned down, pressing his lips to the thin ones below, his own fingers brushing aside the blond fringe at Edward's forehead.

There was a knock at the door, breaking the loving moment, Stephen opening it, hand over his eyes. "I don't know what the two of you are doing, but we're going to miss the show if we don't leave soon."

"Slave driver," Wrath said, playfully squeezing Edward before releasing the older man.

"No complaints from the two of you, or you can just stay here in the apartment all night." Stephen lowered his hand, apparently seeing that Wrath was about to make a comment about not really minding that. "Don't say another word. Just get your bloody arses out here."

Wrath rolled his eyes, looking down at the little blond beside him who smiled in return. Despite their own groans and whining, they were very grateful to the older man. So grateful, in fact, that Wrath had hoped on more than one occasion that the British spy would at least find someone to feel close to the way he did Edward, but like so much about the older man, even possible relationships were held close to his chest.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy got home as quickly as he could, dealing with only the issues that Falman knew he absolutely needed to, hurrying back to the house, opening the door to find a furious Ed confronting him immediately with a hard hit to the upper arm, with the automail fist.

"What the hell were you doing, keeping your gloves in an unlocked drawer, you damned stupid son of a bitch!"

"I did lock it."

"With alchemy?" Ed asked, a furious glare on his face. "Damn you, Roy! Next time just leave a loaded gun laying out for them. They are full-blown alchemists, you dumbass! You can't just use a lock and key and expect that to keep them out of your desk." Roy found himself being hit repeatedly. "You damned son of a bitch."

"Listen, I'll talk to the kids and discipline them."

"Go ahead, but believe me, I already did. They're not going to be sitting down for a week." Roy knew he didn't have to ask how. Ed didn't believe in doing anything but a swat of his left hand, but with the strength in his arm, it was enough. "But you," Ed said, grabbing Roy by his collar, "Mr. Flame Alchemist, need to talk to them about the dangers of using your gloves."

Roy felt himself being pushed through the hall, up the stairs with the pointed metal fingers poking between his shoulder blades.

Doing as he'd been instructed, Roy went into the children's rooms, Nicholas's first, since he'd been the one actually using the gloves.

He walked into Nicholas's room, still the gold and green that Roy and the men on his team had painted and papered years ago for the twins' nursery. He found the little blond boy laying on his stomach on the green bedspread.

"Nicholas?"

A set of black eyes looked up from his pillow, and the boy lumped from the bed to hug his papa, eyes watering all the while. The obvious remorse on his son's face made the older man want to immediately embrace his son to comfort him.

"I wasn't going to hurt her, Papa," he said against Roy's uniform. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to show Aideen what you'd taught me in our lessons, and I didn't hit her with the fire."

"I know, Nicholas," Roy said, guiding the boy over to the bed with the realization that Nicholas needed a real lecture., "but fire isn't something any child should play with, and with the two of you, we aren't talking just matches."

Roy sat down, pulling Nicholas down carefully, knowing the boy had received a definite spanking from his other father. "You are very young, but you have to understand that when you play you have to show more responsibility. You can do things that most children can't. Fire alchemy's dangerous."

Roy proceeded to unbutton his uniform, then the shirt beneath just enough to shift the undershirt up. "I know you've seen this when I've been swimming." Roy pointed to the burn scar on his stomach. It had faded with time, but was still there. "I burned myself playing with fire alchemy when I was a year older than you." He traced over the scar that was the size of two of his fingers as Nicholas got closer. "What would you do if you had hurt Aideen like this?"

The eyes shaped identical to Ed's looked up at Roy, then back at the scar. Nicholas rubbed a finger over the faded scar, Roy trying his best not to laugh at the fact that the boy's fingers tickled. This was a serious moment, one that didn't warrant Roy's laughter.

After a few more dozen apologies, Roy left his son's room, feeling that Nicholas grasped the seriousness, at least for the next twenty minutes—the six-year-old didn't have the best attention span. He moved down the hall, only half-noticing as his own items seemed to be flying out of the master bedroom. He opened the door to his daughter's purple bedroom, finding her laying on her stomach, pouting."Aideen," Roy said as two gold and brown eyes looked up at him, "do you know why I'm here?"

"To tell me that I shouldn't have played with Nicholas with the gloves."

"That's right. Do you know how dangerous that was?"

"But Nicholas had the gloves." Aideen raised an eyebrow, frightening her father just a bit with that he was seeing his own expression on his daughter's face. "I didn't."

"But you played with him. That's what was so bad, Aideen, what if you'd have been hurt?"

"But _Nicholas_ had the gloves," she repeated, with the emphasis she'd meant to have the first time blatantly obvious. She didn't think Nicholas with the gloves was a threat. "I'm faster than him. He wouldn't have hit me."

"I know you like to think that he wouldn't hit you, but—"

"But, he wouldn't have." Aideen looked away from Roy, chin on her arms. "He's not as good at alchemy as me. He needs practice."

"Aideen…"

"But, Papa, he does. Daddy said alchemy is equivalent exchange," she said, carefully pronouncing the phrase so familiar to Ed's mouth. "It wouldn't be fair if I had the gloves. That's why I let Nicholas had them. It was a fair spar."

"You two aren't old enough to spar."

"B-but, you and Daddy do it, and Daddy and Uncle Al, even you and Auntie."

"We're adults, Aideen. We do it because it makes us better at our jobs, like exercising." He pulled her onto his lap, making her look him in the eyes. "You know a lot about alchemy, Aideen, but you are six. You are still a child. You can't question adults. Your daddy and I know much more about alchemy than you do. And when we tell you something, you have to listen. If we think you aren't listening, we aren't going to teach you anything new. Daddy and I will stop teaching you alchemy until you can show us that you are mature enough to use it."

Aideen's pink little lip began to poke out.

"That isn't going to work on me, Miss." The lip made no retreat, though Aideen folded her hands in her lap. "How long did your Daddy say it was going to be before you got another lesson?"

"Three weeks." Aideen said, sounding as though all the air had been let out of her balloon.

"And it will be three weeks. And if anyone catches you using alchemy in that time, it is just going to take longer." He then held her round face in his hands. "And you had better get that little ego in check."

It was startling that his own and Ed's ego seemed to be combined, possibly even multiplied in their daughter, and the unsure parent wondered how exactly he was going to be going to deal with her if it was this swollen at the age of six.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Coming home from the play and small dinner at a little restaurant, the three men had to pass by Alfons's old neighborhood. It was obvious that it bothered the younger blond, going by the very street where Alfons had lived, and Wrath placed an arm around him, Stephen wondering if that was a wise idea.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man with glasses and shaggy stubble on his face, dressed in an officer's uniform watching the two carefully.

"You two go on ahead," Stephen said to Wrath. "But remember I'm going to be right behind you, so no funny business."

The older blond walked up to the officer, trying to look casual, though he suspected this was going to be anything but.

"Hello, officer," Stephen said.

"Those two with you… was one of them Edward Elric?"

"You know him?"

"I knew his cousin. He used to visit him." The officer shook his head. "It was such a shame, Alfons, you know."

"It still bothers Edward."

"Who is that with him?"

"Our friend Ulysses. He's like a brother to Edward."

The man took off his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief, a set of cautious yellow-green eyes still watching the form of the couple who were walking through the crowd, the two trying desperately not to look like they were "together."

"I don't know," the officer said, replacing the glasses, eyes focusing to get a better look at the two, "they look like they are a bit close for friends."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Stephen asked, feeling his anger rising, hating when it did this, as he found control difficult to maintain.

"I just mean, they need to be careful. People might think that they are attempting something that goes against nature. Something that the government, even the Nazi party, frowns on."

Stephen looked this man in the eye, stepping close enough into the officer's personal space that it was obvious he would hurt the man if he continued to tread on such touchy ground.

"Really? You know, I live with them, and I'd know if something was going on, just like I know you're half Jewish."

The man's face paled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, your accent. I'm guessing it was your mother who was Jewish." Stephen had to restrain himself. There was a part of him that really wanted to hit this man, to hurt someone who still bore the mark of the Nazi Party, though not as obviously as Stephen had heard he once had.

"You're Officer Hughes, aren't you?" Stephen asked, flipping up the man's lapel where the swastika rested. "What would your lovely wife say if she knew you still proudly wore that insignia? Edward told me that she had only agreed to be with you because you had lost faith in that organization after the Beer Hall Putsch. My, what would she do to see that on your uniform?"

"You know nothing of the Nazi Party."

Stephen flipped up his own lapel, displaying at its underside the insignia he bore there as a sign he was a member of the Thule Society, a leading force in the party. He watched as the man before him practically cowered in deference to his superior position. Much as he hated the party, Stephen did enjoy the sense of power his place in it had with the other members. Still, as the superior, there was a part of Stephen that wanted to punish this man, not only for his insolence, but for his insults on Stephen's friends.

"Remember the next time you try to open your mouth, and the knowledge that I will continue to hold close to my chest… as long as you don't force me to reveal it. I _do_ know enough about the party to know that your mother's blood is considered a taint to the Aryan race." The emphasis on this made all the more silently by the fact that Frank, with cool blue eyes and white-blond hair seemed the perfect representation of exactly what the Nazis were touting.

With an icy glare, the man walked away, toward his two friends.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed laid in bed, mind and body drained from the withdrawal of the fearful adrenaline rush that he'd received earlier that afternoon. Above him, in the guest room, he could hear Roy climbing into the guest bed. There was still a part of Ed, a rather large part, that wanted to seriously injure his fuhrer husband. It made no sense to Ed that Roy wouldn't take into account that their children would almost certainly abuse their alchemy? Roy had injured himself countless times learning fire alchemy, and Ed, well…

Ed clenched and unclenched his right hand. He'd paid his price for doing the unnatural, for going beyond his skills, disobeying the basic laws of the science. He'd paid his price, and he paid each day for it. More than once, Al had asked him why he'd been able to stay intact, but Ed retained his artificial limbs. After all, the younger brother and argued, they had both been equally guilty. Ed knew that it wasn't true, that as the older brother, he should have known better, shouldn't have convinced his baby brother to commit an act he knew went against everything he'd ever learned. He'd been over-confident, like both of his hard-headed children. He deserved a punishment worse than his brother's. Besides, for as often as Al's now-adult face transformed in pity at his older brother, it seemed as though the Gate had found an effective punishment for him as well, the younger Elric's sympathetic nature obviously pained by the seeming inequity in the Gate's treatment of the two alchemists.

Ed nuzzled his face against the calico by his face, Carlida purring like a freight train. He rolled over to be able to pet her with his left hand, pressing his legs against the rather large dog curled at the bottom of the bed. The pets had sided with him. And, to some extent, even Roy had at least understood the blond's anger. It was bad enough having terrorists and crazed reporters and fans posing threats to their children. Honestly, did the parents need to supply more?

And adding to it all, their son would be the one to suffer by the lack of lessons, not their daughter. Aideen managed, by some regular miracle, to always improve her skills, lessons or not. She had an uncanny, unnatural skill at the science, and deny it as much as they might like, she would probably surpass Roy's skills before she became a teenager, Ed's before she was officially an adult. So instead, when lessons resumed, the two fathers would have to continue to separate the twins into two lessons, Ed taking Aideen to continue what she knew, Roy taking Nicholas.

Their son was by no means at a rudimentary level, and he, too, would probably surpass both parents, but it obviously frustrated the boy that his twin sister, one who was a few minutes younger than him, was so adept. However, the boy's naturally competitive spirit had him thinking of ways not to out-do his sister, since he would never manage that, but to think of ways to trip her up. Like when Aideen attempted fire alchemy and managed to do it better and first, Nicholas learned how to turn the air into heavy fog, which didn't incinerate as easily, with each attempt she made.

Ed smiled to himself, scratching Carlida's ears, thinking back on the frustrated look that had crossed Aideen's usually passive features that day. Nicholas's alchemy might not have been as complicated, but it had irritated the hell out of his sister.

Then, the phone rang. It was late, but not ridiculously so, meaning it was probably Al with another question about Sasha. He was a good father, but he panicked every time the girl coughed, not to mention that he sometimes spoiled her a bit. He leaned over Carlida and Black Hayate to get to the telephone.

"You know, eventually, if I make up with Roy, you're going to lose your spots." The only response he got was a green eye opening just a sliver and a large yawn from the black and white bruiser at his feet. Grabbing the phone, he held it to his ear. "Hello, Al."

"Brother," he said, with the noise of crying in the background.

"Al what is it?" Ed would have been concerned, but he'd hear that kind of crying before, occasionally twofold. "It's Sasha. She's kicking on the floor and we can't get her to stop. What if something's wrong with her?"

"Nothing's wrong with her, Al," Winry's voice said, obviously from the other line. "She's throwing a tantrum. Ed, can you convince your brother of that?"

"She's right, Al. It's just a temper tantrum," Ed said.

"Told you," came the voice of Ed's sister-in-law.

"But why would she be yelling like this over something as simple as bedtime?" Al asked, sounding genuinely worried, not to mention at wit's end.

"Because she's two, Al." Then, Ed added, "And she's Winry's daughter."

"I'm still on the other line, Ed, and I know where you live. I'll take down guards to get to you if I have to." Winry sounded almost serious, making the more experienced parent wonder just how long this tantrum had been going on.

"Well, what do we do?" Al asked.

"Ignore her. Take her to her room and let her yell and kick until she exhausts herself. That's what I used to do with Nicholas. You should remember that, Al. You lived here for damned near four years." There was silence on the other end, making it obvious that the younger brother hadn't necessarily liked this style of parenting. Ed knew that Sasha had slept in the bed with her parents for ages until Winry had put her foot down, wanting alone time with Ed's brother—yech, he thought to himself—not to mention feeling that their daughter would eventually gain some independence if they weren't giving into her whims so easily.

Finally, Ed convinced his little brother to listen to him.

Ed missed the days when tantrums were his only worries. He was still furious with Roy, yet wished that the warmth pressed so closely to him was not that of their pets.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

_**Accusations and Attacks **_

_**Amestris **_

_**One year later**_

Raine Mustang walked through the hallways of the Central office, looking rather confident until she spotted Alex Armstrong coming toward her. Then, she was ducking into the nearest alcoves, taking roundabout routes to her brother's office. It seemed that with distance, the nearly bald man forgot about her, at least enough that every day she wasn't confronted by some sign of his "undying love" for her. But since he'd gotten back to Central, Raine felt like she had no escape.

The man didn't respond well to rejection, either, usually very kindly giving Raine her space before once again providing evidence of his continued feelings for her. She didn't understand why. Hell, it was her fortieth birthday tomorrow, and Armstrong obviously wanted children. So why did he keep pursuing her even after she'd explained that she couldn't have children, especially now at her age?

She turned the corner to put her at Roy's office, finding Falman out front, going toward his desk, and seeing Armstrong in the distance behind her brother's far too efficient secretary.

"Hello, Dr. Mustang. I guess you want to see the fuhrer?" The gray-haired man began opening the door, but before Raine would ever get inside, she realized Armstrong would be there to once again make his profession of love.

"Vato," she said, "you're divorced, right?"

"Yes."

"Not dating anyone?"

"Right."

And with that, door open to her brother's office, Raine began kissing his secretary. Surprisingly enough, even caught off guard as he had been, Raine found Falman to be a pretty damned good kisser, once he returned the move. "Raine? Major Falman?" Armstrong asked, sounding crushed.

"Raine! Falman!" the perturbed voice of the fuhrer said from within the office.

"What the hell?" another from within said.

"Ed," her brother hissed. "Language."

"Auntie is kissing Major Falman," a little girl's voice said, only to be followed by a very loud "EWWW" from her brother.

Raine wanted to convince Armstrong, so she brought her hand up to the older man's gray hair and pressed his face harder against her own. She guided his arm around her waist, then released his hand to rub his back in circles. Somehow, in this action, she'd struck a nerve, feeling him moan into her mouth.

Into her mouth?

She suddenly realized that at some point, the kiss that was supposed to involve only their lips and drug their tongues into it. But no complaints were going to come from the elder Mustang. Falman knew what he was doing. "You go old man!" another person yelled, definitely Breda.

Finally, Raine released her vice-like hold on the older man. "I'm sorry I had to do that. I was trying to convince Armstrong."

"I realized that about halfway through." Then, he ran a hand to the back of his neck, nervously. "But if you want to use me like that again, feel free. I would just recommend not doing so in the office. It's against policy." Raine refrained from adding what she supposed had occurred within her brother's office, instead watching as his hand moved to his swollen, probably tender, lips. The kiss over, the two looked around them, realizing they were likely going to have some explaining to do.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

"You have to be kidding me," Wrath said, looking at the stuck lock on his roommate's bedroom door.

"Do you think I am? I don't want to bust the door down and have the owner have to come up to fix it and see all the stuff we've got up here, but if I can't get out soon, I'm going to miss meeting with that bitch Eckhart."

"Well, I'm afraid I might I might cost us a lot of money for the repairs, but I'll give it a try." Wrath placed his foot to the door, prepared to simply simply break the latch and hoping he didn't bust the door, but Edward grabbed his ankle.

"Ulysses," he said, "the hinges are on our side of the door. We don't have to break it down."

With an embarrassed grin, Wrath just answered, "Oh." He lowered his foot, feeling Edward run a hand over his cheek.

"You want to get me a screwdriver?"

"And hurry? I've been stuck in here for two hours before the two of you got back to the apartment. I have to use the loo."

Wrath grabbed two from Edward's work pile, handing one of them to his boyfriend. The blond began working on the lower pin while Wrath tried to pop out the top one. Midway through, he noticed Edward had already completed what he was doing, with his thin, nimble fingers, and he was now on the middle hinge, putting his head uncomfortably—for Wrath at least—at the teen's crotch. Doing his best, the young man worked to remove the top pin, feeling Edward's warm breath through his thin black slacks, a reminder of just how far the two had gone in the last few years with their relationship.

As Edward stood, facing the door, rubbing other parts of himself against Wrath, it was a reminder of how far they hadn't.

"Ready?"

"Huh?"

"I said, are you ready?"

"Oh, yeah." Damned teenage hormones and Edward's small, beautiful body. Wrath was beginning to feel that if the two of them didn't soon manage to take that final step, he would explode. Lately, every time he came in contact with the blond, he needed to hide behind something waist high or remain seated for a considerable period of time. Three years they'd been a real couple, and in those three years, they'd done some wonderful, mind-blowing things, but never _that_ thing, never the one that Wrath felt finalized it all.

Together, the two pushed at the door, Stephen on the other side, helping them. The door was no sooner open than Stephen was thanking them as he flew by, running to find some kind of relief.

The young couple smiled at one another, then chuckled at their friend's expense.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy was grateful the kiss had been one to distract Armstrong, though he felt more at ease with the idea of Falman as a brother-in-law than he had the large, burly General. Really, he wished his sister would finally settle down with someone, if that was possible, just so he didn't have to keep thinking that one or the other of his subordinates was trying to date her.

Then again, the only other of his friends and original team who was still single was Fuery and the general consensus was that the young lieutenant colonel simply had no interest in Roy's sister, or anyone's sister, for that matter.

Roy was just finished cleaning up the mess his children had made, drawing on some scrap sheets of paper pictures of the family. They'd stayed at his office for a while after visiting Riza's grave. It was something that both fathers felt had to be done, but at what frequency and how to display their own emotions were the biggest questions. Roy didn't want his children thinking it was something done just out of obligation, yet, he wasn't sure visiting the grave should be something that always brought the two men to tears, at least not publicly.

Of course, after a somewhat sobering afternoon, Ed had said that seeing Raine and Falman kissing had been just about the funniest thing he could imagine. And, despite his natural inclination to be protective of his older sister, he had enjoyed Ed's laughter so much he hadn't even considered the fact that he should be upset.

After the scare nearly a year ago, Roy had noticed his husband's laughter hadn't come as easily, at least when he was around. They had taken to sleeping together in the same bed a little over a month after the whole incident, but Roy had to admit that something had been different. Roy had expected Ed's anger to wane, but he had obviously been frightened and blamed Roy for the incident.

This on his mind, Roy made the trip back to the house, knowing he had to get dressed to go out with Raine for her birthday. He walked in the door, finding Aideen and Nicholas running through the hall to hug him.

"You just saw me today," he said to the seven-year-olds. "Well, are the two of your ready for dinner with Auntie?"

Both answered yes, though Nicholas looked uncomfortable in a white dress shirt and tie, while Aideen seemed much more at ease in the loose-hanging white pants and black sweater, though her father wondered just how long they were going to stay white.

"All right," Ed said to the twins, "your papa needs to get ready." The shorter man stepped out of the kitchen. Roy stared for a moment, caught in one of those times of disbelief that the twenty-three-year-old was actually his. Ed leaned up against the frame of the archway into the kitchen, tan vest, brown pants, green tie on, hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Most of the time, Roy preferred to see Ed dressed in something more casual, especially those black leather pants, which made an appearance whenever Ed was going to be doing some kind of physical labor or fulfilling some form of mission. But tonight, the blond couldn't have looked better. "Now, you," he said to Roy, "go upstairs."

Roy rubbed the tops of his children's heads, then went to Ed, kissing him with a quick rub of his hands over the still soft cheeks—a fact that was still part of Ed's greatest irritations that he couldn't grow decent facial hair. There were some grossed out noises from his son and the sound of Aideen lightly rapping her brother on his head for making them.

"Go," Ed said with a grin. "I was even nice enough to lay out clothes for you so we could get there early."

"So you're dressing me like one of the twins?"

"I wouldn't have said it that way, but, yes. Now go." Ed smacked Roy on the behind, out of view of his children, with his left hand. The older man looked over his shoulder at the blond, whose face looked as stoically calm as though nothing had happened.

0o0o0o0

Ed stood beside Roy, now dressed in the pin-stripe suit he'd laid out for him when Nicholas came running up to them with the pyrotex gloves, apparently startling Roy a bit. He looked over at Ed. "I swear I locked the drawer with alchemy.

"I know. They've figured out how to open it. I've had to try about three others to find one that they haven't learned yet. I'll have to show it to you." Ed then looked down at his children. "But I don't think we're going to have a repeat of that incident."

Nicholas held the gloves up to his papa, who took them and placed them in his pocket, thanking the little blond, but telling him to let the adults get the gloves from now on.

After some final bathroom runs, making sure there were enough activities for the children to do during the dinner at the restaurant, making sure each had a little toy they wanted, and then another bathroom stop, the family was finally on the road. The family of four got into the restaurant just ahead of Al's. The older cousins waved at the sandy-haired toddler in Al's arms, Sasha's hazel eyes sparkling as she squirmed to be let down out of her father's arms.

As she was released, Ed knelt down to hug his niece, feeling her chubby little arms around his neck. She smiled up at him, those mostly green eyes then darting over to her idol: Aideen. Treating the little three-year-old like a sort of little sister as she always had, the dark-haired girl took Sasha's hand in her own and led her to the table, helping the younger girl to her seat with the help of her Aunt Winry. Nicholas went off to play with his own near-brother, Havoc's little boy, James. The Elric brothers joined the Mustang siblings in time to hear Roy complaining to his sister about their hair.

"I just don't get it. You're going to be forty and your hair is still pitch black," he said. Ed looked up at his brother, rolling his eyes. The hair at Roy's temples had finally gone white, though he had very few anywhere else, and both brothers knew well enough that the fuhrer still hadn't gotten over his sensitivity about it.

"That's because my hair color comes in a bottle."

Roy stood, gaping. "After all that time of telling me to just let myself go natural, you dye your hair?"

"Yes. Your gray looks nice. Mine is in a strip, starting at my forehead. I look like a damned skunk, so yes, I dye my hair, Pyro." Raine ruffled Roy's black hair, then walked over to Ed, hugging him. "Honestly, Baby, how do you put up with my overgrown brat of a brother?"

"I tune him out most of the time," Ed returned the hug. "Happy birthday, Raine." He looked at his watch."

Raine moved to her seat at the head of the table, Roy at her left hand, the children between him and Ed. The blond knew that this wasn't entirely what Raine would have wanted for her birthday, and she'd already announced she and the single women—including Rose, who'd befriended the elder sister during her work in Lior rebuilding the city—and Fuery, much to the man's embarrassment, would all be hitting a strip club that night. Ed didn't know if it was true or not, but he'd enjoyed the shade of red the man had turned beneath his glasses.

The dinner went well, talking and laughing among the adults, playful banter among the children. Armstrong had even quickly recovered the shock of the rejection from Raine, turning his attention to Rose, almost indirectly, by playing with Phillip in a nearly fatherly manner. Ed leaned over the children to whisper in Roy's ear, joking that the dark-haired boy would leave the place flexing his muscles.

Everything was going fine, just as it should, a simple family moment without anyone caring about politics, or alchemy except in passing, casual conversation. Everything was perfect, a happy moment, a nice birthday before Raine would inevitably go out and get herself trashed either from alcohol or lack of sleep.

Then, there was a shout making all at the table leap from their seats. Ed saw a man, one who might have been from Drachma, as he had the appearance of those in their northern territories. The man managed a short string of curses at the bunch before pulling out a gun and squeezing the trigger, pointed directly at the source of the fuhrer's "unholy union." With his automail, Ed managed to deflect the bullet into a nearby wall, not to mention shatter a bit of the metal limb it had struck. Immediately, because of the risk posed to himself and to his children, Ed clapped his hands, transforming the arm and jumped at the man, wishing the armed guards hadn't seemed so unnecessary at the time they arrived at the usually guarded restaurant. With that strong metal arm, Ed knocked the gun out of the man's hands, then pointed the sharp spike to the Drachman's jugular.

"Big mistake, attacking me when I'm with my children. Big mistake just attacking me. Now, while my friends here arrest you, maybe you should explain to me why I shouldn't use this pointy little arm to damage your Drachman face?"

_**Munich**_

Stephen stood inside Eckhart's office, looking at the older blond woman, still barely able to withhold his revulsion at the woman. The spy's cool, unmoving face had a way of keeping such emotions guarded, something the original choice for this mission, Captain Mustang, would never have managed it with his easily read face. Personally, Stephen felt the younger man should have been grateful for his family; the only thing that had kept him from being assigned to this long-term mission had been the birth of those twins and his marriage to Riza, whereas his more experienced superior officer was unattached. More than once, Stephen had wished he'd had a family to prevent witnessing the horrors of the Thule Society, led by the crazed woman seated opposite him.

"Well Stephen," she said, calmly, "I want you to know that I have heard rumors. Hardly much to be worried about." Stephen folded his arms, keeping his voice passive as he spoke. "Rumors of what Frau Eckhart?"

"Rumors stemming from slight accusations from an Officer Hughes." Stephen couldn't help the reaction on his face. "You are familiar with him?"

"He said some rather derogatory things about my roommates. I had to take things into hand," Stephen said.

"So I had heard. I would guess the man's comments were similar to the accusations he's leveled on your two roommates."

"You cannot honestly believe him. He sees them in the street a few times, yet he feels he knows them well enough to say these kinds of things. I live with them, and Frau Eckhart, I share a wall with their bedroom. I would suspect I would have heard something."

"Currently, the society is not concerned with the rumors. Edward Elric is our best rocket scientist, and Ulysses his, cousin, I believe it was, is second only to him. We have no intention of investigating those rumors at this time."

"Don't ask, don't tell?"

"As long as the person is useful," she said with such exacting coldness it would have made anyone shiver, but though it wasn't a part of himself he showed often, Stephen recognized that same indifference in himself at times.

"Then what do you want of me?"

"We would like you to stop such accusations." Eckhart folded her hands on her desk. "Permanently."

"And why do you think I would be capable of such an act?"

"Your eyes, my faithful researcher. You have already killed before, possibly countless times before."

"The Great War was not kind to those who served. It hardened those it didn't break," he answered.

"Then you know what is expected of you. I believe tomorrow you will be able to find Officer Hughes vulnerable around seven that evening during his patrols."

Stephen nodded, then left the woman's office.


	13. Chapter 13

Warning: DOUBLE LEMON

**Chapter 13 **

_**Together **_

_**Amestris **_

_**The Next Day**_

Roy stood, watching his children play outside, having a "spar," but thankfully not with real alchemy this time. Within the confines of the heavily gated and guarded property, Roy felt safe enough to allow the twins to simply be children, without him obviously hovering over them. It also gave him a chance to simply enjoy them, something he needed at the moment. The attack from the Drachman was just one more reason on list that grew each day for those demanding war with the country that refused to accept their neighbors to the south and the leader for now seven years. Roy had tried so hard to be diplomatic, to avoid this, but somehow, the fuhrer feared it was inevitable.

Still, the children outside were a momentary distraction while the would-be assassin was held for questioning by Fuery, who was slowly becoming skilled at interrogation. Roy now only wished that Ed could see this, Aideen in a blue shirt and blue pants, about a dozen red, orange, and yellow scarves hanging from her wrists, occasionally balled up into her gloved hands before being tossed in the direction of her brother. She'd tucked her long hair beneath the collar of her shirt and had half her face wrapped in a black bandana. Nicholas, on the other hand, had apparently gotten his sister to pull his hair back into a miniscule ponytail. He'd tied a piece of cardboard to his right arm and was wearing black from head to toe, save for a much-too-large button-up red shirt of Ed's he left open.

"You look happy," a voice said to his left. Turning his head almost completely to be able to see Ed—he already knew it was him—he responded by grabbing the automail hand so close to him, barely registering the hitch in Ed's breathing at the simple act.

"Well, I'm enjoying getting to watch a re-match between Flame and Fullmetal without actually having to participate in it."

Ed looked out the window, and Roy turned his attention back to his children as Nicholas faked being blasted away by a toss of Aideen's scarves. "Nicholas is pretending to be… me. He never does."

It was true; this wasn't the first time the two had played this game, but it was definitely the first time the blond boy outside had willingly pretended to have his daddy's metal arm. Perhaps finally seeing Ed fight yesterday had done it, instead of regularly seeing the limitations of the metal or the scarring it had caused. Roy brought Ed's hand up to his mouth, placing a light kiss on each of the knuckles as he always did, a reminder that he felt the limb was as much a part of his husband as the left. Again, he barely acknowledged the noise that escaped the blond's lips as he did. "I'm glad Winry managed to get you fixed up so quickly."

"She even made some improvements." The two watched as Nicholas faked kicking Aideen, who flung herself backwards at the imaginary impact. "Your hand is cold."

"Well, I've been standing here by the window. It's a bit drafty, and all I've got on is a short-sleeved shirt." Then it struck the older man, looking down at the hand that gently squeezed his own and over at Ed's face. He was crying, silently, and not tears that seemed to be of pain. Roy had seen them before when the twins had been born, when Ed had been happier than he'd ever seen him.

"Ed, how did you…?"

"I said Winry made some improvements. Apparently, she'd been working on this for a while, but didn't dare tell me to get my hopes up. With Al's alchemy and some new designs, she's managed to link my nerves to the automail so that I not only move it, but can feel with it, not just pressure but real sensations of touch."

Roy raised the hand he held in his own, turning himself and Ed to face one another. He unbuttoned Ed's shirt to reveal the white undershirt he always wore, sliding the gray fabric slowly down both shoulders and arms, as Roy's left hand made its way down the automail, he saw goosebumps rise across Ed's entire body. "I'm not… not used to it yet…" Ed stammered, watching as Roy moved down the metal limb. "But I can shut it off before I fight."

"So no pain, only pleasure?" Roy asked with a raised eyebrow as he leaned down to kiss each inch of metal.

"Only p-pleasure." When Roy hit the junction between flesh and metal, Ed moaned. It seemed that area was extra sensitive. He ran his tongue over it this time, and evoked another pleased noise from Ed's parted lips. "Roy… the twins…"

Reluctantly, Roy realized Ed was right. He couldn't just keep going as he had been, though a part of him, a part of him that was growing hard rather quickly, wondered if the juncture at Ed's thigh would be as much of an erogenous zone as the arm had been.

The children continued to play outside as Ed's right hand caressed gently over Roy's face. It was strange for the dark-haired man to feel, as though the warmth that came from it was no longer borrowed from their close contact, but coming from within the metal. Carefully, the hand moved the eyepatch that seemed to be the bane of Ed's existence, to reveal the sunburst-like scar, the bane of Roy's. The metal fingers traced over each bump and ridge on the older man's face, moving the palm down to his cheek, which had a bit of five o'clock shadow, the hand retracting somewhat, as though it tickled. It moved over to his ear, gently rubbing the lobe, then moved back to the dark hair, curling and uncurling in the straight locks.

"Daddy? Why are you crying?" Aideen asked. The two fathers had missed the end of their children's playing, and both were inside, staring at him. "Did Aunt Winry hit you with a wrench again?"

Ed tilted his head down. "No. Your Aunt Winry did something very nice for me." Ed tried to explain in the simplest terms the wonderful gift that Winry had given him, but all his children could do was test out their daddy's new sense of touch, making him close his eyes and tell them whether something they brought him was hot or cold, soft or hard.

As the two ran out to the kitchen, apparently trying to find something in the icebox, Ed leaned over to Roy. "My brother and sister-in-law also have offered to let the twins stay with them for the night. Another gift thanks to Winry."

"I'll have to thank her personally."

"Daddy," Nicholas said, coming back into the study. "Close your eyes." Ed obliged and Roy watched as the twins stood in front of him, nothing in their hands for him to feel, grabbing the automail hand and rubbing it over each of their faces, apparently having opened the icebox to fool their daddy.

"This one feels like a little blond, and this one, I think, is a dark-haired little girl." The twins laughed and hopped onto Ed's lap. Looking over at his husband, Roy wondered if the happy tears would ever stop.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Edward sat on Wrath's lap, despite the fact that it disturbed him how easily his smaller frame fit there. He kissed and sucked at the younger man's neck, feeling deep moans rumbling in the former homunculus's throat. That was followed by a slight hiss as Edward's ministrations caused what would certainly be a bruise just above Wrath's collarbone.

Stephen was gone for the night. Where, the couple didn't know. They only knew that they would have the apartment to themselves for several hours.

Edward placed a hand over Wrath's much larger right hand and arm, which were wrapped around the blond's waist. The age difference between them was more often mistaken for being the other way around, as Wrath had matured, looking years older than he was, and Edward had still managed to retain some of his youthful innocence and appearance. The larger man began kissing the top of Edward's head. It was something that never failed to baffle the older man: his lover's obsession with his hair. Perhaps it was because that braided black hair was so coarse, but Wrath never seemed to be able to keep his hands and lips off of the shorter, satiny blond hair. "I love you," Wrath said, his arms tightening around Edward's thin body.

"I love you, too." The blond smiled, knowing Wrath meant those words as much as he did.

There was a part of the older man that regretted living in this world, a world where he was forced to deny so much of who he was, forced to deny his feelings toward the man holding him unless they were within the privacy of their home.

"Edward," Wrath said, his voice cracking a bit, obviously trying to broach a subject he was unsure Edward would care to discuss, "we've been together for three years now, and you know how I feel about you. I'm not a kid anymore, not that we've been doing things that would be appropriate if I was, but I…"

This topic had come up before. The older man had used many excuses as to why he couldn't or why they should wait, but it all stemmed back to the one thing, honestly. He feared that actually having sex with Wrath would seal him as a sinner, as one who'd violated what he'd been raised to believe. And because of that, Edward had stalled, had delayed, had done everything but that with his friend of so many years, lover of the last three.

"You don't want to," Wrath said. "I understand."

"No, it's just…" Edward rested his head on Wraths' chest. "If we do this, there is no turning back for me."

Wrath's fingertips scratched over Edward's back, or would have if the younger man didn't bite his nails. "Do you want to turn back? I won't blame you."

Edward shifted, moving to straddle Wrath's thighs on his knees. This was the only way the blond ever got to look down on the brunette, as he was just an inch higher on his knees than Wrath was sitting down. He looked into his love's eyes, which at this time of night had taken on an almost indigo color.

"No," Edward answered, pressing his forehead to the teen's. "No, I don't." Then, to show his determination, his resolve that if he was going to be condemned to hell for this, it would be worth it, he began unbuttoning Wrath's shirt.

"Now?" Wrath asked.

"Now," Edward said, kissing Wrath firmly on the mouth, moving his tongue inside the wet, hot cavern. His fingers nimbly finished unbuttoning Wrath's shirt, the larger man's hands having more difficulty with Edward's own. Moving the teen's shirt off of the broad shoulders and down the muscular back, Edward moved his mouth downward, tasting every bit of skin he could.

"We need to..." the teen started, but Edward had captured one of Wrath's nipples in his mouth, rolling around the hardening bud with his tongue, making the younger man lose his train of thought. "Need to..."

With a smile, the gold eyes looked up at Wrath. "Need to what?" He returned to his work on the other nipple, making it stand up on end like its twin.

"Top or bottom."

Edward pulled back, allowing the teen to finally remove his shirt. "How do you know so much?"

"I've been reading. Just in case." Wrath then shifted Edward around to put his body over top of the lithe blond, who now found himself on his back on the sofa. "I didn't want us to hurt one another."

"Then you know more about this than I do," Edward said. "I think that puts me bottom."

Wrath looked confused. "But you're older... and I could hurt you. I'm bigger--"

"Are we bragging about our size now, Ulysses?"

A faint pink tinge came to the teen's cheeks. "I meant I'm heavy. I weigh at least twice as much as you." He ran his right hand down Edward's side, where a few ribs were obviously felt in his touch.

"I'm skinny, but you're not going to crush me." He pulled Wrath down to his level. "I'm stronger than I look." "But bottom can hurt. Bad, if it's not done right. There could be tearing, and even when it's done right, the bottom can end up limping for at least an entire day."

"Are you trying to convince me or not, Ulysses?"

Before another word could be said, Edward found himself being lifted up and carried into the bedroom.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Roy Mustang found himself practically pounced by his husband as their children disappeared from sight. The door had been shut only a fraction of a second before Ed and Roy slammed against the wall, right arm wrapped around the taller man's neck, left leg around his thighs. Eagerly, if not a bit greedily, Roy attacked the willing mouth opposite him, thrusting his tongue in and out of the hot, wet oriface in ways so suggestive, there was little doubting what he planned to do in just a few moments. To add to the younger man's pleasure, Roy began rubbing the metal limbs, sending Ed into what appeared to be sensory overload.

Taking full advantage of Ed's weakness. Roy flipped positions, forcibly pressing Ed into the wall hard enough that his metal shoulder seemed to crack the plaster just a bit.

"Son of a bitch!" Ed yelled out. "What the hell happened to pleasure, no pain?"

Roy smiled, unbuttoning Ed's shirt enough that he could once again assault the junction of metal and flesh. "Better?" he asked, lips grazing off of Ed's shoulder. All that came back in return was a grunted yes. Roy's hand moved to massage the meeting of flesh and false limb at the muscular leg wrapped around him, hearing Ed groan louder, his arousal pressed into Roy's own hardening member. The older man grabbed the almost boneless right leg and wrapped it around himself, wondering how long either of them could last like this, and if they would even manage to make it to a bed. Roy certainly felt that taking Ed on the spot sounded like an absolutely brilliant idea, particularly since this kind of animalistic sex had evaded the couple for the last few months. And he had missed it.

There had been many reasons for the lack of passion: Ed's anger, the supposed "seven year itch," and most likely the _seven-year-olds_ who had impeccably bad timing, frequently interrupting their parents. But now, none of that mattered. Roy had Ed pinned against the wall, completely at his mercy with just a few simple licks and kisses. The older man only half-noticed as Ed's left hand moved between them, fighting to undo his fly, despite the fact that it was practically doubled over on itself, thanks to the odd angle of Ed's hips. Finally, Ed merely resorted to releasing his hold on Roy to clap his hands and alchemically rip the fabric off of himself. Before Roy allowed his hold on Ed's legs to loosen enough to drop what had been Ed's pants and underwear to the floor below them, the blond reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of oil.

Hands shaking, entire body quivering as the older man kissed and hummed against the juncture, Ed unfastened Roy's pants and used his now bare legs to move the fabric down, letting out a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh as the metal limb met the flesh of Roy's behind. Roy watched as the still unsteady metal hand poured a modest amount of the oil onto his left, the older man expecting the flesh hand to reach out to the very obvious need rubbing against the blond's. To his surprise, the bottle was thrust into his chest for him to take, the metal arm then wrapping around his neck and shoulders for contact once again, as well as leverage, and the flesh hand reached behind to prepare himself.

"Damn, Ed," Roy said, watching as his husband's face twisted a bit, concentrating on what he was doing to himself, his body wriggling over Roy with enough friction the older man felt certain he would lose control of himself. The older man took the vial that had been tossed to him with his only available hand, the hand grasping tightly to Ed's left leg, thumb stroking the scarred area on the blond's upper thigh. He poured what remained of the oil onto himself and began a slow, steady pace of spreading the oil over his length. Then, with that same hand, he reached beneath Ed, moving his index finger to meet the blond's other two, waiting for a signal from the blond to proceed in.

He felt Ed's fingers scissoring, widening for the taller man, while Roy's finger massaged around the opening until he finally received the nod to slip it in as well. He went slowly, seeing the pain on Ed's face, he dipped his head down once again to kiss at the over-sensitized arm, while his right hand proceeded its massage of his husband's left leg. At the angle he was reaching at, Roy was having trouble finding that spot inside of Ed that would certainly make him buck in pleasure, but once he finally succeeded, he watched Ed's sweaty face as his gold eyes rolled into the back of his head and a groan echoed through his chest.

"Okay," Ed managed as his hips stopped bucking within Roy's hold. "Ready." Ed removed his fingers, Roy taking one last rub over that incredible gland. "Bastard." Ed said as his hips moved up Roy's body, forcing Ed's weeping member to rub against his stomach. Then, Ed switched hands around Roy's neck, moving the right one to wrap around the older man's length, this time, making Roy swallow out of nervousness. "I'm not going to break it," Ed said, kissing Roy's quickly on the lips. "I don't break my favorite toys."

Shifting his hips and positioning himself properly, Ed slowly began impaling himself onto Roy, who could not help as his own body responded by rolling forward and completely imbedding himself inside of the gorgeous man wrapped around him, still pressed against the wall.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

"Are you sure?" Wrath asked his lover, still in wonderment that they were actually in their bedroom, pushing the small beds together, with plans of finally making love. He finished pushing his bed to the center of the room to find Edward now standing on top of it, putting the smaller man a bit above eye level with him.

"Yes." Edward caressed Wrath's cheek gently. "We have the beds together. Now what?"

"Lubrication. I don't want to hurt you."

"There's some oil in the kitchen that Stephen cooks with." Wrath nodded and went to retrieve the glass bottle from the counter, not taking very long, only to find Edward starting to remove his pants. The taller man tossed the sealed bottle onto the bed, then began stripping his lover slowly of each vestige of clothing, Edward returning the favor. As they stood in front of one another, completely naked, Wrath couldn't help but feel the warmth flowing to his cheeks, and noticing a pink tinge to Edward's. True, they'd seen one another naked before, even shared a bed this way, but never with the intent to do what they were tonight.

Nervously, Edward sat on the bed, Wrath kneeling on the floor in front of him. Slowly, affectionately, they pressed their lips together, parting just enough for their tongues to lap at one another. Wrath gently ran his hand through Edward's hair, then, with his hand at the back of the blond head, he guided Edward down to the bed. He could see that his boyfriend was nearly hard already, but Wrath wanted this to be pleasurable for both of them. Resting on his elbows, he began kissing and loving each inch of skin available to him, lapping down the thin, delicate body with his tongue, seeking out the first tan bump, suckling and nibbling until it was satisfactorily at attention. He moved over, hearing Edward moan and sigh as he continued his actions on the other one.

Shifting his weight back to his legs, Wrath caressed down Edward's sides, down to his narrow hips, watching as the fine dusting of blond hair on the older man's body stood on end. With his strong hands, the taller man began massaging Edward's inner thighs, circling around that curly blond hair, seeing that his efforts were not in vain, as the blond was now fully at attention. He then reached up and grabbed the bottle of oil, pouring a bit onto his hand, smearing it around on his fingers.

"You're sure you want to be in this position?"

Edward merely bit his lip and nodded, head and shoulders off the bed so Wrath could see him. The dark-haired man brought his head down, slowly encircling Edward's organ with his mouth, setting the cooking oil to the side. With one hand, he pressed Edward's legs open further, while the other began massaging the area between the older man's balls and his puckered opening.

He could hear Edward practically humming as he began to circle his index finger, slowly pressing it inside. Wrath could feel his finger being constricted as Edward's body fought the intrusion. He released the blond, looking up at him. "You need to trust me and relax."

"Relax?" Edward asked doubtfully.

"Mm-hmm," Wrath said as he moved down to run his tongue up the underside of the very hard shaft, his unoccupied hand playing with Edward's testicles. As the pressure on his finger lessened, Wrath then pressed in farther, finding that he was distracting his lover enough that even when the inner walls constricted on his digits, they did not do so as tightly as before. The brunette began taking Edward into his mouth, not wanting to point out that had the blond been seme, it would likely have hurt Wrath less, as both their bodies seemed _entirely_ proportional.

His mouth continued its distracting work, while he added a second finger, finding Edward's body trying to reject it as it had the first. He moved the fingers around inside of his lover, in an attempt to spread that opening wide enough to accept him, feeling that maybe a third would be necessary. Then, Wrath felt something spongy, something he'd read about in his studies that he remembered was supposed to make this feel so good for the bottom. Apparently, the books had been right, as Edward bucked unexpectedly into his mouth, making him gag.

"Oh, God!" Edward cried out.

Wrath felt certain that Edward was ready and willing by this point, but he moved to hit that spot just one more time just to watch the look of exquisite pleasure on the older man's face. Then, he moved his mouth away and his hands, hearing Edward whimper.

"I need you to roll over," Wrath said, his voice a bit huskier from the force of Edward's thrusts earlier.

Almost mindlessly, the smaller man complied, Wrath positioning him on his elbows and knees, providing a pillow should he need it for his head. Then he took his place behind his lover, taking more of the oil to spread on himself before further spreading Edward's legs. To better prepare the blond for what was to come, he ran his length between Edward's cheeks before separating them with his thumbs.

"Are you ready?" Wrath asked, seeing Edward look over his shoulder at him, nodding.

With as much patience as he could manage, Wrath took it slow as he entered his lover's tight, beautiful body, wincing as he heard Edward cry out in pain. He knew it would hurt, there was no other way to keep it from hurting, but, as he slowly moved inside, he did his best to make the pain go away. Once he was completely seated within the thinner man, he waited for a sign that the body beneath him was adjusting. Then Edward's hips moved, his head sinking down onto the bed. Slowly, Wrath pulled out, nearly completely, his hands moving up to tenderly rub Edward's back, feeling each vertebrae as he did. Then, he gripped Edward's hips and pushed back in, earning a cry from his lover that didn't sound as though he was enjoying this even remotely. To the contrary, Edward seemed to be in a great deal of pain.

"I love you," Wrath said, wondering if maybe he should stop, but the blond shifted his hips back to Wrath's. The teen withdrew again, shifting his hips, changing angles, desperate to keep this from hurting. This time, the scream was no longer one of agony. As he found a steady rhythm, repeatedly striking that spot that made Edward's back arch and screams of desire and lust escape the normally quiet man's lips, Wrath cursed his youth and inexperience, realizing that he wasn't going to last long at this pace.

Moving together, steadily, then more forcefully, Wrath moved a hand down to Edward's member, pumping in rhythm with his own steady thrusts, until he felt the small man's muscles contracting, constricting, creating overwhelming friction to Wrath's member as Edward spilled onto the bed, dragging the younger man with him, flooding the blond's insides, and fighting the urge to simply fall on top of him, sated and experiencing an afterglow so powerful, he thought he might never stop grinning.

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you, Ulysses," the older man said, his voice sounding exhausted, but not regretful.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

At what point they ended up on the floor, Ed didn't know. All he was sure of was that he was nearly to his climax just by the sensations going through his arm and leg, but combining that with the feeling of the taller, older man on top of him, pressing Ed's legs back against his stomach, ramming into him so hard and so fast that he was certain his back would have rug burns.

And all Ed could do in return was rub at the fuhrer's still-clothed back, the sensations of the rough wool over Ed's arm as his shirt sleeve rolled up was indescribable. He wondered how it was that he'd always felt with his left hand and never been so amazed by the textures, by feeling.

Above him, Roy continued his steady pounding, his mouth attacking the shoulder, then moving to Ed's mouth. Ed moaned then cried out into the older man's mouth, trying to arch futilely as Roy's hands held him to the floor, and his member repeatedly hit Ed's sweet spot. Roy was unrelenting, rolling his hips, shifting their bodies so that he reached such a depth that Ed might not be capable of walking by morning and was presently lost completely in his lust and desire for completion.

When finally, with some forceful thrusts and Roy's lips moving once again to the scarred flesh surrounding the metal shoulder, Ed could feel everything tensing, his body very near release.

"Roy, so close." Ed said. "Oh Roy, Roy…Roy…" Ed couldn't explain it. Suddenly, it seemed the only thing he was capable saying was his husband's name, over and over again.

"Still so tight," Roy said, licking his tongue along the seam of Ed's automail. "So beautiful…. Damn, Ed…. I love you." Ed clenched Roy's hair as he felt his release washing over him, shooting onto their stomachs, yelling out at the top of his lungs, and wondering if this would end. He wasn't sure if he'd had an experience so powerful, and he and Roy had had their share of incredible sex.

He heard Roy yell out, filling Ed's body with that familiar, warm sensation.

As they both seemed to have released every single drop of cum they had in their bodies, Roy withdrew from Ed and laid on the floor at his side, the younger man finding himself being cuddled by the older man's right arm.

For several minutes, the two men laid pressed closely to one another, Roy on his side, rubbing at the younger man's forehead and sweat-soaked hair. Ed continuously rubbed the older man's chest with his right hand, then moved to his own side, running his metal fingertips over the short gray hair at Roy's temple, tracing over the shell of the man's ear.

"I missed this," Roy said, still sounding a bit breathless. "I was afraid you'd stay mad at me forever."

"What?" Ed asked, stopping what he was doing.

"For the gloves."

"I stopped being mad at that about a week before I let you back in the bedroom."

"Then why have you been so different with me?" Ed didn't answer, didn't want to. "Ed, why? You knew it was different."

"I'm worried, okay?" Ed rolled back to his back, flexing his right hand. "Do you realize Nicholas is doing alchemy that I was doing when I was nine? And Aideen is probably only a month of so away from being where I was when I was eleven." The blond flexed his hand again, only to find it being clasped by a smooth left one.

"Ed, it isn't going to happen. They have both of us here to make sure it won't." The black head rested against the blond. "Has that been worrying you all along?" Roy pulled the metal hand to his face, running the backs of the fingers along his own cheek. "A year, you've been worrying about this?" Then, he pulled Ed into his arms, sliding him across the carpeted floor. "Still the stubborn little shrimp you always were. You practically beat my problems out of me, but you won't talk to me."

"Don't call me a shrimp, bastard," Ed said against Roy's chest.

The older man's response was merely to kiss the top of Ed's head. "You know the bad thing about having sex somewhere other than our bedroom," he said, changing the subject all together, "is that we have to manage to haul ourselves to our bedroom at some point or another."

"And I think I made a mess of your shirt."

"Not to mention the wall and the floor." Roy started to sit up, guiding Ed with him, making the younger man wince in pain as his back rose off the floor and he found himself in a seated position.

"Bastard," he hissed. "I'm going to limp for a week."

Ed watched as Roy stood over him, holding hands out to the blond. "As though I haven't had a few limps myself."

It was no time before Ed was to his feet, finding Roy immediately hoist the flesh and metal body into his arms.

"Your back," Ed said. "And, besides, I'm not an invalid just because you got to be top tonight."

"Look at it this way. You get to walk around with a funny walk, and I'll be bent over." Roy then began the slow climb up the stairs and to their bedroom, Ed reluctantly allowing his husband to carry him, wrapping arms around his neck to help disperse the weight.

"Damned chivalrous bastard."

"Hard-headed, foul-mouthed shrimp." Roy said.

"Love you, Mustang."

"Love you, Fullmetal."

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Stephen sat at the table sipping a cup of tea, rather enjoying that the woman who'd prepared it had actually had a blend that any Brit would enjoy. He hadn't been there long, but he had purposely timed it that way. He heard the front door open and watched as Officer Hughes entered the kitchen, to be greeted by his daughter and wife, only noticing Stephen a few seconds later.

"You," was all the officer could say.

"Yes."

"Why are you here?"

Stating things as simply as he could, Stephen spoke with a cool, even tone. "It seems that some rumors and speculations have been made about my two roommates. You are already aware of what group I work for, and you should be made aware of is that those same two men are also members, indispensable members. You, however, are rather insignificant as far as that organization is concerned. They would like for those rumors to stop."

"And what are your plans?" the officer said, looking to his wife and child who were still in the room, the wife now seriously watching the near perfect Aryan example at the table. "To intimidate me?"

"You should know well enough that I would not be sent for mere intimidation. I am here to ensure you never speak another word against my friends. How that happens is your choice." Stephen's blue eyes carefully watched each twitch in the officer's face, and saw returned to him an expression of experienced understanding and anticipation. "Outside, there is a man who is willing to take you to safety. His name is Mustang. You and your family will be given enough time to leave with as many items as you think are absolutely necessary and the world will think that you died.

"Then there is the second option. Your wife and daughter will not be harmed, not physically, but I would think that the loss would affect them emotionally."

There was still no response from the patriarch, but his wife grew furious. "How dare you come into my house under the pretense of being a friend of my husband's! He is a good man."

"Frau Hughes, I do not wish to harm your husband. I have no desire to, which is why I am offering him an option that does not involve both of us being hurt. Your husband got involved in things he shouldn't have. He got back involved with the Nazi Party, then made accusations against two people who are vital to their work. So, tell me, do you still think your husband is a good man?"

"We'll go," Hughes said. "If you promise me they won't be hurt."

"No one will be hurt." The man wearing glasses nodded, the spy watching the couple, not envying either of them for the conversation that would follow. But that wasn't his concern. He had to set up a false arson, with the three bodies already waiting in the officer's rather pathetic little car. The story was already prepared: The officer had somehow received word of what would happen, and Stephen had taken it into his own hands to dispose of him, unfortunately taking out the man's family in the process.

Much as he didn't want to admit it, the man would rather enjoy it, the darker part of his nature anticipating a little action, his conscience enjoying that it would not be causing real death.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

_**Battle **_

_**Amestris **_

_**Two years later**_

Roy stood on the battlefield, trying not to spend his time watching for Ed and focus on leading this battle. He caught a glimpse of the short blond, giving commands to several troops, though the older man knew full well that his husband would wind up going off on his own. He always did, refusing to kill, but rather trap the enemy. Though if there was ever a time when the younger man was tempted, it was surely now, as the Drachman army had discovered tunnels which began near the border of their own country and directly into the heart of Central, directly to the path of the couple's children.

The fuhrer barked out orders, discussed with his generals and colonels, and fought doing his best to protect his men and keep casualties at only the minimum. Like it or not, he was cursing Ed's father, not for the first time. The very tunnels that had allowed the Drachman army to enter Amestris were created when Hohenheim Elric had formed his first philosopher's stone, burying the town that still laid beneath Central. The tunnels that had _his_ family, _his_ country in danger were "that bastard's"—as Ed so affectionately called his father—fault. This war, which had nearly been over after a year and a half of fighting, had practically been won until the country of Drachma realized the tunnels which laid beneath their border.

There had been a part of Roy that had hoped that by being diplomatic, he would be able to avoid using his gloves again for warfare. But now he was adding onto his death tally, not only by his own actions, but also by those of his orders. He was ordering others to kill. But this wasn't the time or place to think about it. Those were for moments alone, moments with Ed when the blond would force his problems out of him.

He'd sent Havoc and Breda's troops into the underground city to flush the Drachman troops out from behind, thanking fate that the army of Drachma seemed to have never found the ruined metropolis lying beneath Amestris, instead taking the direct route to the city above.

Fuery, Falman, and some of the others more accustomed to desk work, but still capable of holding their own were left to fortify the major buildings, all of which housed civilians. He trusted Falman, who had become practically a brother-in-law since moving in with Raine, to protect Aideen, who was probably still steeling herself against the fear and worry, and Nicholas, who was probably trying to watch from somewhere within the building, despite his broken arm from a tree-climbing incident a few weeks before.

Roy snapped his fingers, trying to ignore the screams as best he could, realizing that while he'd aimed mostly for the men's lower bodies, some would still die, others would be badly injured, it was the best he could do. War was ugly. Only so many compromises could be made before they became too much, before they became impossible.

Again, he snapped, seeing Al working to establish barriers and protection. It had been at Ed's insistence that his little brother not participate in the actual fighting, but work to protect the troops in one way or another. Ed's words had been that he didn't want to see his brother's eyes become empty. As protective as the fuhrer had always been, he couldn't help but agree. For someone like Al, a civilian who had no business fighting at all, it would kill him inside, destroying what made him who he was.

Armstrong was in the distance, hurling rocks at break-neck speeds into the approaching troops. For a moment, the fuhrer pitied the men falling under the nearly bald general's attacks.

Everyone was fighting brilliantly, and the fuhrer truly believed they could win this battle. His only fear was at what cost.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Edward sat beside Wrath at their dinner table, looking anxiously over at the twenty-year-old.

"You want answers," the brunette said, "and I don't have them."

"But, they can't get the transmutation to work, even with Envy now wrapped around it. Why?"

"Ask Hohenheim, he's out drinking with Stephen." The violet eyes looked at him, lacking the warmth they'd once had. Maybe it had all been a mistake, trying to be together here. Trying to pretend they wouldn't get caught. "Probably, the woman isn't powerful enough."

"They're trying again in a few hours. They think the time could be right. And they want one of my rockets ready to be sent through."

"Congratulations." That word was so cold, so angry.

"Ulysses, there is an option, you know, we could be together in your world, if we could get it to work."

"Right, because heaven knows you won't fight for us in this one." Wrath stood from the table, pushing the chair so far under it lifted off its front legs and wedged itself underneath. "But you don't fight for anything."

"Fighting the fact that the owner wants us out because he heard us making love wasn't going to solve anything. This world isn't going to accept us, not in our lifetimes."

"Because people like you won't stand up for it," Wrath practically growled at him.

Edward shoved his hands into his pockets, stepping toward the man he still held feelings for, looking him squarely in, well, the chest to be honest, but aiming for his eyes. "I've been working on the rocket to carry passengers. Three, should Stephen want to come since he's been having problems with HQ or Hohenheim if he changes his mind about monitoring the actions of the Thules here, but I'd hoped that at least two would be able to go."

"Getting to finally go home sounds nice. I'll enjoy getting to see Ed and Al again and finally meet the twins." Wrath was purposely avoiding Edward's entire reason for suggesting this.

"And, we could be in a world where what we are won't matter."

"Well, that will make it more convenient if we decide to see other people, won't it?" Those sharp eyes watched Edward, waiting for something, but the smaller man said nothing. Edward still held the hope that back in Wrath's world, the two of them would be able to be together, that once the greatest obstacles were gone, none of this would matter any longer and the fighting would stop. Unfortunately, hope of that seemed to be slowly fading, as with each passing day, Wrath continued to pick more and more fights with the blond, or he at least tried to. Edward was not a fighter, and when Wrath wanted to argue or debate, the blond shut down, went silent.

"Damn it Edward," Wrath said, punching the wall, cracking the plaster just a bit, "you can't even fight for us to me?" The brunette stood, watching as Edward sat on the sofa, saying nothing at first, then changing the subject, as he always did.

"I will have to ask Stephen if he wishes to come along to make sure I have the calibrations correct."

At that, Edward heard their bedroom door slam shut, and he merely closed his eyes and sighed. He knew Wrath still cared, but there was a growing frustration that didn't seem to ease with the passage of time, and he didn't know how to correct it.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

"Aideen," Nicholas called out to his sister as he stood on top of a chair, on top of a desk to see out of a tiny window near the ceiling of the storage closet at the central headquarters.

"Nicholas," she hissed back at him, "get down here. You're going to hurt yourself."

"Will not. I'm good at this kind of stuff."

"Really? Is that why you broke your arm?"

The blond looked down, sticking his tongue out at her, knocking the chair off balance as Aideen clapped her hands and transformed the entire thing into a woven net to catch him. "Thanks."

"Vato is looking for you. He's worried you're going to do something stupid." She rolled her eyes. "I wonder why."

"At least I don't act like an old lady," Nicholas said, running ahead of her. "Can't catch me. I'll get to Papa's office first."

"Nicholas, you're going to run into—" He turned to face her, paying no attention to what she said until he had run head-on into something very heavy. "the barricade."

Once Aideen was finally beyond the door, Nicholas was sitting on the floor, rubbing an aching shoulder, thankfully not the one to which his broken arm was attached, and an aching backside.

"Come on, you dummy," Aideen said as she walked by him, then looked over her shoulder. "Now who's going to get back to Papa's office first?" She laughed and ran ahead of him Nicholas, while he yelled out something about it not being fair.

The two were only a few feet from their father's office when they were spotted by Falman and Fuery.

"And where do the two of you think you're going?"

"Papa's office," Aideen answered. Nicholas looked over at her, standing stock-still himself. She wasn't intimidated by the two men in uniforms; she wasn't intimidated by anything.

"That is Lieutenant Colonel Fuery's base of operations, Aideen. You can't go in there."

"Vato," Nicholas said, his voice showing just how unsure he was of what to call the man when he was in uniform, "are Daddy and Papa okay?"

"We just heard from the fuhrer… um, your papa and he's fine."

"And Daddy?" Aideen asked.

With a warm smile, the young lieutenant colonel answered, "Your papa wouldn't be fine if your daddy wasn't." He patted them both on the head, something the two nine-year-olds hated, but didn't say to the man who more often than not resembled a large puppy. "Now, you both need to get to the central holding area." Then, the younger man mumbled, "And I need to talk to my so-called guards who let you slip by."

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

"They really want to try to go our world?" Hohenheim asked.

"Yes," Stephen said, milking a final beer before he went to yet another ceremony at the Thule Society. "But even now with Envy captured and the block broken to the other side, the gate only manages to resemble a small thunderstorm on the floor."

"The Roma girl isn't powerful enough with the knowledge the society's given her. I believe there are only two in this world who are capable of activating that Gate."

"You and Ulysses," Stephen said. The man with his head of white and blond hair nodded.

The older man pulled out a pocketwatch. "I believe it's time for us to go. You are taking that Roma girl from there this evening during the preparation ceremony, correct?" Stephen nodded. "And I will be waiting to retrieve her, to take her to safety."

"Be kind to her. She hasn't seen much of that." Stephen rose from the table and left to return to the apartment, which had turned incredibly cold since the shop owner below them had discovered that the younger couple was exactly that. The owner had realized the influence that the three men had within the Nazi party and said nothing, but asked if they would leave by the end of the month. Wrath had been furious, arguing all the while with the owner, Edward saying nothing, just as always.

Stephen never said a word, but if there was a chink in the younger men's relationship that didn't involve the outside world, it was this key difference in their personalities, a difference that became more noticeable with each year: Wrath enjoyed arguing and debating and felt the need to let off steam while Edward merely held in negative emotions, afraid to argue or upset anyone, more so since he'd been with Wrath because he felt there was more at risk, and honestly, there weren't many openly gay men in Munich as other options.

Honestly, Stephen preferred a good one-nighter, avoiding all of this relationship stuff, occasionally a repeat one-nighter, but never did he try to be part of a "couple." Give him "good sex" and "goodbye", and he was happy. Then again, he'd never found anyone to really care about.

He didn't know why his thoughts kept going to his lack of relationships, lack of real affection for anyone save his mother who'd raised him on his own. Perhaps it was that there was a sense of finality about this night, and that sensation only grew stronger as he neared the apartment, realizing that if this ceremony lasted as long as the previous one, it could possibly be several days long, yet the man had no concern that his dark roots were already beginning to show, that he hadn't remembered to buy the peroxide blond dye that he'd been using on his thinning hair for nearly a decade.

Though he hadn't accepted the two young men's offers to accompany them, he had a feeling as though he wasn't going to be back.

He'd heard of men feeling this way before they died as well, but at forty-one, he'd have to be taken to Hades kicking and screaming before he'd resign himself to such a fate.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed clapped his hands, then slammed them to the ground, bringing up an enclosure around an entire unit of the Drachman army. He knew he technically had troops to order, and he'd given the commands, but he was well ahead of them, containing unit after unit, avoiding forcing his men to fight. Then, once all of the units were enclosed, Ed would transform the upper walls to powerful magnets, forcing the men inside to remain uselessly trapped to the wall or relinquish every metal item on their body.

It was an effective method, but there would be no heroics for his troops, and he knew there were those who were upset to be left merely cleaning up stuck Drachmans and removing their weapons. He also kept within sight of the Central office, keeping an eye out for any sign of attack. He didn't know how the other soldiers did it, how Roy did it, having their children so close to all of this.

Perhaps that was what separated him from the true soldiers, that aspect of distancing themselves from their civilian life the moment they put on their blue uniforms. Red coat, dress shirt, or the overly tailored uniform he wore now, he couldn't stop worrying about his children. Thankfully, it was that same concern that made him so effective in fighting off several units essentially on his own. He didn't want them getting any closer to his family.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Wrath passed by Stephen in the chamber at the Thule Society, seeing the blond nod beneath the hood of his robe. Hohenheim had Noa; she was safe. If Wrath and Edward were to try to leave now, they could.

Angry as the former homunculus was at his lover, he couldn't help but wonder if things would merely fall apart back in Amestris or if it could be the start of something new between them.

At this point, Wrath hated to admit it, but either way, he wanted something to change. Their relationship had been stagnant for months now, and whenever the taller man got angry at the smaller, he felt like such a bully. But if there was a chance for happiness, together or apart, he'd give Edward what he wanted: a life in a world that wouldn't judge him for being gay.

0o0o0o0

Stephen stood outside of the chamber, seeing a dark-haired man waiting for him in the distance. The older spy made his way to the forest, under the pretenses of having to relieve himself, something which nearly all of the men in the group did out of kindness toward the women, to allow them a slightly less used outhouse.

"Captain," he hissed once he got out of sight of the chamber and any of the society's members.

"Actually, it's major now."

"Well, Major Mustang, what do you want?"

"You said tonight would be a huge ceremony, very distracting. I understand you've gotten the Roma to safety with Hohenheim, though he remains unconvinced by the prime minister that he should turn her over to the government."

With a smile, Stephen said, "Good," nothing more.

"Good? The things they are doing here, the ideas they are working on, they could keep our country from falling under attack ever again, and you would withhold her from your own government?"

"Yes."

Mustang was obviously agitated, if not a bit confused. After all, the two men had been compared on more than one occasion. "I am here to inform you that the government will no longer allow you to house the young man Ulysses. We are demanding you turn him over."

"Are you trying to order me around, _Major_ Mustang? If will remind you that we are the same rank, and I have no need for lectures or orders from you. After all, I still have seniority in the rank of major." Icy blue eyes narrowed on the former subordinate. "You doubt my assurances that if this information got into anyone's hands, regardless of country, loyalties or beliefs, it will be in the wrong hands. I see no good that can come of it, and yet they still want Ulysses."

"That's right." A lie, Stephen could spot it in the fellow major's face.

"They want Ulysses because you told them of him. Are you that desperate to rise to the top, Roy? Really?"

"Does it matter how they know? You obey orders well. Don't break a good habit."

Roy turned on his heel and left.

"Son of a bitch," Stephen muttered, wanting to punch the man, but explaining why he might be covered in blood—because he'd probably break the man's nose if given the chance—would be just a bit difficult. He realized he had a decision to make. He knew he would never turn over a friend to the government, so he could either take the risk of a courtmartial or go with his two roommates and get the opportunity at a real adventure.

Stephen re-entered the chamber, moving inside to where Edward was setting up the rocket.

"I'm going," he said.

The blond looked at him, nodding. "I'll make sure the calibrations are correct."

Stephen already knew the layout of the rocket, knew his seat would be in the rear of the thing, Wrath's and Edward's near the front. He knew where the hatch was that would allow him in before it blasted off into the moved transmutation circle that had been drawn on the ceiling with that serpent Envy surrounding it.

A bell was rung three times, a call that the ceremony was to start. Edward climbed inside the rocket that was supposedly carrying nothing but a message of fear to those on the other side of the gate and began operating it, while Wrath disappeared up the ladders leading to Envy, saying something to the beast that apparently upset him. Then again, Stephen considered, it could be the fact that the two were supposedly once the same type of creature, and Wrath wasn't the one bound to the ceiling.

With nearly all the Thules out of the room to prepare Noa for her entrance and inevitable activation of the gate, or would-be activation of the gate, in a few moments, they would find she was not in her room, and would be back in the main chamber. This meant the three men had a very short time-frame. He watched as Wrath clapped his hands, evoking a very loud roar from the serpent, but not seeming to kill it, the ceiling lighting up and opening more than wide enough for the rocket. The rocket's first fuel cells were ignited, and Stephen knew both he and Wrath didn't have long before they needed to be inside.

The older man opened the hatch, watching as Wrath painfully slid down the metal ladders, finally making his way to the floor and into the hatch, Stephen behind him, making his way to the rear of the cramped little rocket. "No windows in this thing?" he asked, sarcastically.

"No, but it's targeted directly at the gate."

A giant rocket aiming for an opening, Stephen couldn't help, despite the adrenaline rush, but think of the immense amount of phallic imagery in that one.

With little preparation, the rocket burst off the ground, headed, hopefully for the gate and into the other world, or into oblivion.

0o0o0o0

When he awoke, Stephen found himself being hauled out of rubble by solders wearing strange blue uniforms. God, his head hurt. Looking around him in a bit of a haze, he realized his vision was a little screwy too. Blinking, stunned, he looked and saw a figure with a black eyepatch approaching him. Fast.

"Son of a bitch," the other man, sounding a bit like Roy, said. Then, Stephen found his face making contact with the man's fist, or the other way around. He was too disoriented to determine for sure.

The punch was a strong one, far stronger than any he'd remembered Roy ever giving him. However, it seemed to have cleared his vision for the moment.

"Tell me, Roy," he said to the man across from him, "is that how you greet a fellow major?"

"How the hell did you get here?"

"Big rocket, you git, how do you think? And what is the eyepatch for? I know you are rotten with disguises, but have you learned nothing?" Stephen could feel the hands that held him tightening, and watched as Roy's fist tensed once again. "What the hell is going on?"

"That is exactly what I want to know." That single dark eye looked at Stephen with so much venom that he honestly believed if given the chance Roy would kill him. He looked away for a moment, seeming to scan the battlefield, and that's definitely what this looked like, a battlefield next to a foreign city Stephen didn't know.

"Well, I'll give you answers, but the others… how are they?"

"What others?" Roy asked, having to turn completely around to look back at Stephen.

"Will you take that bloody eyepatch off? You look ridiculous."

"I would gladly take it off, or at least give you reason to wear one so we can match, you asshole."

"You little prick," Stephen said, finding himself being cut off by one of the soldiers at his sides kneeing him in the stomach.

Then, a young soldier ran quickly toward them. "Fuhrer!"

"Fuhrer? Are you telling me you took out Hitler and beat him to the job?" Stephen gasped out.

Roy didn't acknowledge him and turned to the young man. "What is it, private?"

"It's Lieutenant Colonel Elric, sir."

"Ed? Something's happened to Ed?" Roy asked.

"Edward?" Stephen mimicked.

In unison, the two yelled out. "Take me to him."

That earned a quick, angry glare from the dark-haired man. "Since when do you give a damn about anyone, Archer?" He looked to the soldiers. "Bring him with us. I'd like to interrogate him personally."

_A/N: These are in no particular order, just the order I remembered them in. _

_1. Worked at the circus but didn't do tricks. In the movie, Archer was ringmaster at the circus. (And I don't think he did any tricks, which is why Noa mentioned that.) _

_2. Tugged at shirt sleeves when discussing sex with Wrath and Edward (my own little quirk from last story) _

_3. High-up in military intelligence. (The other Archer was in charge of military intelligence after Hughes's death.) _

_4. Got turned on hearing noise from Wrath and Edward, so possibly gay (Other Archer gay in my story) _

_5. Dark side doesn't mind killing. (Archer was a friggin' sociopath) _

_6. Mentions to his ambition and dedication to military. (Though less so than Archer because Stephen can make friends to be loyal to.) _

_7. Blue eyes (I should have remembered that one first) _

_8. Blond hair was fake (yeah, but you didn't know that until this chapter.) _

_9. Likes the idea of one-night stands or repetitive one-night stands (in my story Archer used Roy as a friend with benefits. Which, again you didn't know until this chapter.) _

_10. Told Roy not to lecture him. They were the same rank. (Essentially what was said in the anime and my last story. Again, this chapter) _

_11. Hints that he could be a cruel interrogator. (In last story, Roy feared Ed being in Archer's hands after discovering Wrath and the attack on headquarters to get him back.) _

_Oh, and congrats nette on being the first and only one to post that they thought it was Archer _

_Now, the issue Stephen's going to have to deal with is why is he so different, and can the others see him that way. (Hell, I waited 14 chapters to reveal it because I didn't know if all of my readers could see him as a decent person)_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 **

_**Crash**_

Roy didn't know how the hell the bastard had ended up intact, following behind him, a look of concern on his face. At the moment, all he knew was someone had told him something was wrong with Ed and he couldn't get there fast enough. He ran to the front half of that craft, that thing this Archer called a rocket. The entire thing had landed on top of much of the Drachman army that had been still alive and uncaptured by Roy's army and those that remained untouched by the crash were retreating. Knowing Ed, Roy was certain his husband had been ahead of the battle, trying to keep the other soldiers from having to kill by staying as far in front as he could.

Looking at the flaming wreckage, Roy thought he would be sick at the thought that Ed had somehow been in the middle of this, been crushed by this.

He continued to mumble to himself, "Not again, not again, not again…" Images of Riza, the bullet wound to her head, the mess of blood and dirt and mud and other fluids kept running through his mind. The image of Riza was replaced with Ed, and it took all the control and self restraint that the fuhrer had within himself to keep the tears gathering at the corner s of his eyes from falling. Behind him, he heard this blond Archer crying out for Edward. What the hell right did he have? Who did he think he was?

Then, Roy saw it, a large body, bloody, broken, but alive, sobbing over something smaller, something Ed-sized. He couldn't have told anyone what was going on to either side of him as he ran toward the blood-drenched blond head being held in massive arms, toward the wreckage, toward the sound of pained sobs and cries of loss he was all too familiar with.

"Not again."

Getting close enough, he tried to touch the head of the small man in the larger one's arms, only to be met with a feral growl, watching as arms that should have been broken in a million pieces tightened their hold on the body, shifting it enough to allow the older man to see a shattered yet still recognizable face on the lifeless form.

"No," he said, quietly, feeling his ability to speak fading while he was still trying to remember he was a commander here, that he was not supposed to break down. How many out on that field continued to fight finding out that their husband, wife, son, daughter were killed on the battlefield. Why should he be different? Why should he think he had the right to crack when he demanded obedience of his soldiers?

And why did he think he could fight his grief?

Roy fell to his knees, once again trying to touch the face, Ed's face. Only partially, he realized that the face seemed thin in death and his hair, where had his hair gone? He extended a gloved hand to touch that head to find the injured man so guardedly holding onto Roy's husband nearly bite him for it.

"Ulysses," a voice behind him said. "Please, if he can be saved, someone is going to need to see."

A set of violet eyes tried to look back at the blond Archer, tears streaking through the blood-covered face, only to be covered in more of the bright red liquid from a cut bleeding near the center of the man's forehead.

"Please, Ulysses," Roy said, using the man's name, "please, let me see him. Let me see Ed."

"Mine," was all the man said, trying to once again squeeze the small body close to him, but it seemed the man with the dark, bloody hair was losing his strength.

"Let me see him!" the fuhrer ordered, no longer possessing the patience to deal with this man who refused to allow Roy to see his own husband.

"Damned Neanderthal. What the hell do you think you're doing Armstrong?" A familiar voice said in the distance. "Do you haul Rose around like this? If you do, I'm surprised she doesn't divorce you. And are you trying to hurt me? First you try to crush my chest hugging me so hard. You'd think you hadn't seen me in a month. Now you're going on about me being dead or something. What the hell, you big walking fireworks display?"

The short alchemist was planted firmly on the ground by the large general, who was already crying at having found him.

"Roy, did you have him do this? I was rounding up the last of the retreating soldiers, and he just grabbed me…"

Roy rose to his feet, but only long enough to drop to his knees again in front of his husband and grab hold of the smaller man's waist, burying his face in Ed's stomach, the rough material of the blue uniform scratching against Roy's cheek. The older man feeling the gloved hands running through his hair.

"Shit, Roy, what's got you so spooked? I'm right here."

"I thought… I thought you were him." Never had Roy felt he was glad someone else had died, but at that moment, despite the cries of the man who struggled to cling onto that Ed look-a-like, Roy was relieved that the one lying in his arms was not his husband.

0o0o0o0

Ed looked down at the bloody mass in the strange man's arms, then heard a voice, one he'd hoped he'd never hear again.

"How is this possible, Edward?"

Ed looked up to find Frank Archer, years older, a bit weathered, skin just as pale as before, eyes as blue, but his hair and eyebrows a shade of pale blond. "You," he hissed at the man while helping the one at his waist to his feet. Though he partially understood the man's trauma, he couldn't let the entire army see their fuhrer like this. "How did you get here intact? You should be dead."

"Look," Archer said, "I don't know why everyone thinks I should be dead or dismembered, but I'm not."

"Good," Ed said, taking off his uniform coat quickly, revealing his white sleeveless undershirt, as he refused to wear the dress shirt beneath as some of the men did. "Then let me remedy that." He pulled off the gloves and watched the man's eyes go to his arms. "Don't act like you've never seen automail before. You were half this, you freak."

"You aren't him. Then, that really _is_ him. Please, let me go so I can get Ulysses to let go of…" The man's swallowed, his eyes blinking entirely too much. "Edward." The man's expressions, his misery made Ed stop, question whether he really wanted to hit this man. He knew he'd never heard Frank Archer utter the word "please" with any genuine intent.

Ed turned his attention to the man with long, thin braids in his hair, still fighting with anyone who came near him and the body he held in his arms. Ed reached down and squeezed Roy's hand, then moved to see who it was that he was being mistaken for. "Listen, Ulysses, was it?" Ed said, none too kindly. Everyone was babying this giant of a guy, and he was injured, not to mention whoever it was he clung to so tightly. A pair of amethyst eyes looked at him fiercely, a mouth baring a set of white, flat teeth. Ed couldn't explain it, but some part of him had expected to see a mouth of pointed, animal-like teeth.

The harshness in those violet eyes melted as Ed finally recognized the man looking back at him. "Wrath."

"Ed," the man said amid sobs, loosening his grip on the person he'd been holding in his battered arms. Looking down in shock, Ed saw his own face, lifeless at his feet. "We'll get the two of you to the medic. See if we can help him, okay?" Ed knew that even with Raine's ability, his near twin laying lifeless below was beyond hope. Wrath, his body stretched behind him, immobile, looked around. Two of the soldiers went to help the tall man onto a stretcher, but he would have none of it until the smaller one was taken care of.

"Stephen…" Wrath muttered out, blood gathering at the corners of his mouth. Ed knew he wanted to take care of this other man, but if he wasn't soon under the care of a doctor, even he wouldn't be helped.

"Ulysses," Archer said, "do you want me to take him?" The braided head nodded, just slightly. Ed watched as Archer looked up at Roy, blue eyes actually pleading. "Please, he was my friend. And so is Ulysses. He won't go as long as Edward is still laying there." Roy nodded to the two men holding Archer, Ed trying to protest, but had not choice but to look on in surprise as this Archer put a hand on Wrath's shoulder delicately, then pulled off the cloak he'd been wearing to drape it over the body before picking it up carefully. "I'll just carry him like this. He's never been much of a burden."

With the help of several soldiers including Armstrong and Roy, Ed got the large body of the former homunculus onto the stretcher, his legs dangling off the edge. "Let's get them onto an ambulance."

0o0o0o0

Riding in the bumping ambulance, the thin blond in his arms, Frank—God, how long had it been since he last even allowed his own mind to think of himself by his name?—wanted to crack for the first time in his life. He'd trained himself not to think of death, not to make friends. This was why. In war, in battle, in espionage, people die. People always die. And now in his arms, he cradled just one more reminder of why he'd been so strict on himself.

A good spy never lets his true name be spoken aloud, even convinces his himself not to use it to ensure it never slips out by accident. An experienced spy learns not to make attachments. A true spy obeys his orders and does not defy them to go on a joyride inside of a rocket.

And spies that have been working as such for over twenty years don't cry, but he was crying now, too, trying to hide his face from Wrath. If the young man actually saw the intelligence expert crying, he would know the truth, know the loss was real.

Making it worse was that this man with the same face as Edward was looking at him so hatefully it nearly literally stung. He didn't understand why this Roy and Edward were so different from those he'd known, but both seemed to have a vendetta against him. And, he couldn't help but notice through the tears he continued to fight off that they were sitting, hand in hand, not to mention that display earlier when this Roy had clung to the blond when he saw he wasn't dead.

Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, Frank tried to ignore the warm, wet sensation all over his body from Edward's blood, tried to ignore the body growing colder in his arms. He had to regain himself, to consider Wrath. To remember the hurt was not his alone, and that in order for the young man to survive, he couldn't know, not now.

The bouncing vehicle came to a stop, and Frank stood, forgetting just how small, how frail Edward had always been but never seemed. It was nothing to lift the body as he rose, looking over at the still small, much more solidly built duplicate opposite him.

"We're going to have to go out first," Roy said. "The troops will need to see Ed so they know that man isn't him, and we'll need to explain they shouldn't shoot you."

"Yet," the small blond said.

The rear doors of the ambulance opened, the two men who seemed to be a couple hopping out first. A shout could be heard from just outside. "Brother!"

"Gah!" Edward's voice said, somehow manipulated into a raspy shout from that other man's mouth. "Al, you're squeezing me to death." Frank looked out of the doors, seeing a rather tall man who looked much like both Edwards, somewhat reminding him of Alfons, picking the small blond off the ground in a hug. "Damn it, at least Roy had the decency to come down. You tall freaks keep picking me up."

"Brother, I thought you were…" A set of large brown eyes spotted Frank. "Him? How?"

"We don't know," Ed answered as he was set on the ground.

Frank jumped to the ground easily, seeming to surprise the faces of the gathering crowd. "I don't remember you being so athletic, Archer," this Roy said. Frank didn't even acknowledge the comment.

"The gate, Brother? They came through that?"

"Yes, and so did Wrath. The soldiers are going to need help getting him out. He's been injured pretty badly."

The taller man nodded, walking by Frank with a cold expression on the face that had been so warm greeting his brother. Frank moved through the soldiers, following behind the small man with the long blond braid, feeling as though he must certainly be the most hated man on the face of this planet, but not knowing why. Then, he heard the cocking of a gun, and found himself met with a man with blond hair, and blue eyes like his own, holding a gun inches from Frank's left eye.

"Why don't I blow your eye out like you did the fuhrer's you bastard," the man said, eyes narrowing.

They thought he'd shot Roy. Admittedly, he wanted to after the way the man had betrayed Wrath, but to have actually done it, they surely were mistaking him for someone else.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas found it incredibly funny that those guards thought they could actually hold him and his sister in the conference room with the rest of the civilians in the building. Did they have any idea whose son and daughter they were? If there was a way out, they'd find it. And they wanted to know what the big explosion was, if their parents were okay, if the fighting was over.

Ducking through the hallway with the expert skill of two children who had practically grown up at the headquarters, the twins hid behind desks, under chairs, into little alcoves. They did their best to remain hidden from the officers and Falman, who seemed to be keeping an especially wary eye out for the two.

"Major Falman," Fuery said, sticking his head out of the fuhrer's office door. "Could you come in for a moment?"

Nicholas knew by the look on Fuery's face that something was wrong, he looked over at his sister to find she was already gone and had tapped into the wall of their father's office. Saying nothing, she handed him a sort of receiver she'd alchemically created to listen in on what was going on inside.

"According to some of the men removing the wreckage, there have been many injuries, nearly all Drachman, but we've also received reports that Ed may have been injured, possibly even dead."

"No."

"They found him in the wreckage, and were fairly certain it was him. He wasn't moving and there was someone with him, keeping medics from getting very close."

Nicholas let the receiver drop to the floor and ran to the nearest wall, clapping his hands and transforming the stone into a slide that led down to the ground below.

"Nicholas!" Aideen yelled after him, following him down the rough slide that tore at his pants.

He could hear the shouts of the soldiers as well, but there was no stopping him. If his father was… was anything, he wanted to know. He could hear the steady pace of his sister's footsteps behind him. He hoped as much as he could that it was a different Ed, but there was a sickening feeling in his stomach that it wasn't, that they were talking about his father.

Soldiers spotted the two children and tried to catch them, but the two were fast runners and excellent fighters, meaning they were hard to grab and impossible to restrain. They ran to the medic tent, crawling through the crowd of soldiers until Nicholas spotted their uncle Jean with a gun pointed to another man's face.

"Why don't I blow your eye out like you did the fuhrer's you bastard," their fathers' friend said, glaring at the slightly taller blond. Nicholas was confused; he'd been told that the man who'd hurt his father's eye was dead, so how was he here now, and who was it that he was holding that was bleeding so bad. Someone underneath that fabric had gotten hurt bad, worse even than Nicholas when he'd broken his arm. The person was small, probably not a lot taller than the nine-year-old. And then it struck him.

"Daddy?" he asked. "Is that…" Havoc lowered his gun just a bit, Nicholas looking up at the man he'd known all his life. "Uncle Jean, please, tell me. Is he… is he…"

"Is he dead?" Aideen finished for him, a rim of wet tears at the bottom of her eyes.

"What are you two doing out of the office? I told Falman and Fuery to keep an eye on you." The twins ran to Roy, gripping their papa's waist.

"Please, Papa, tell us that Daddy is okay," Nicholas said.

"You tell me," Roy said, pulling his children off of him and pointing to Ed who was maneuvering back through the crowd to his children.

"You little shits," Ed said, not even seeming to notice that it wasn't the most appropriate language. "What are you doing out here? Your papa and I told you to stay at headquarters."

"But we… heard… them say… you were…" Aideen was sobbing, finally crying as hard as Nicholas had been the instant he'd seen their papa, begging him to tell them Ed was okay.

"Come here," he said, holding out his arms, the two children instantly burying their faces on their father's chest. "Do I feel alive enough to you?"

Nicholas saw out of the corner of his eyes as the blond moved through the crowd, Nicholas's papa at his side, ordering his men not to shoot. Behind him, several men, including Uncle Al were carrying a large man on a stretcher to the tent where he could see Auntie waiting.

"Daddy?" Nicholas asked. "Are they going to be okay?"

"I hope so, buddy."

"You're lying," Aideen said. Nicholas didn't know how she did it, but she always knew when their parents, and Nicholas himself, were lying. "The person under the cloth wasn't moving."

"No, he wasn't." He held the two closely to his body, obstructing their view of the injured soldiers. "You don't need to be here."

"That man is dead?" Nicholas asked, looking up at his father, dark eyes still wet with tears.

"Yes."


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 16 **_

_**Aftermath**_

Sitting on the hospital cot, having medics analyze him for injuries, some Doctor Knox giving him a look-over and seeing there were some bruised ribs, a mild concussion and cuts, but nothing serious only served to worsen Frank's guilt. Why him? He was older. He had only come along because the other option was a court-martial. He hadn't needed to accept the younger men's invitation, and what if he hadn't? Maybe his weight on the ship had caused it to nosedive. Maybe the calibrations hadn't been done properly to accommodate him, or maybe the calibrations were off just enough that had he not been aboard, the two men would have survived uninjured.

A thousand what ifs and maybes were running through his mind, threatening to drive him crazy in his guilt.

There was a woman now, bringing him clothes, she was young, dressed in pants, a toolbelt at her hips.

"Don't know why I got to be the lucky one to bring these to you," she muttered as she tossed the set of clothes at him. "I can't help my automail's so good I had hardly any repairs to do."

"Automail?"

"Yeah," she said. "That stuff that was attached to half your body last time anyone saw you alive."

"I-I don't understand. Until I saw that other Edward, I'd never… It's not like anything I've seen before." He looked down at clothing again. "Thank you."

He stood, the lower half of his muscular body clad in a rough military-issue blanket. "You can change in that tent," the woman said, green eyes venomous.

Frank moved from his cot to a tent with numerous tools and parts. The woman's voice came from outside. "You touch anything inside, I swear to you I'll hit you over the head with a wrench." There was something in the blond woman's voice that made him believe her. Frank had gotten to wash off Edward's blood and had been sitting in that blanket for maybe an hour, listening through the canvas operating tent as a woman he was told was Roy's sister worked on Wrath. Not only did it surprise the former spy that a woman was a doctor, but he'd always heard Roy talk of his sister Raine having died in an accident with his parents when he was a teenager.

Frank pulled the boxers, stiff new pants, socks, shoes, and shirt on, then folded the blanket. He stepped out of the tent, looking to the blond woman. "You really hate me, don't you?"

"Yes," she said, rather bluntly. "I do."

He watched as a shorter man in glasses approached, this world's Roy at his side—he was convinced now that Wrath had been speaking the truth when he'd said he came from an altogether different world—both looking like they would just as well rip him to shreds.

"I think those men want to talk to me," he said to the woman. "Will you please return this to the hospital tent?"

"They'd probably rather burn it than use it again after you."

"I'm not him, you know. Whoever your Frank Archer was, I'm not him." The blonde unceremoniously grabbed the blanket from him, leaving him faced with the two shorter, dark-haired men. "I'm unfamiliar with your interrogation tactics. Should the medics be informed they'll need to clean me up later, or won't it matter?"

"If you end up bloody," Roy said, "it won't be from the interrogation."

"Follow us, please," the shorter man with large dark brown eyes said to him.

"First," Frank said, "has there been any word on Ulysses… the man you all call Wrath?"

"Dr. Mustang is getting him stable enough to be transported to the hospital," the man with glasses said. "Ed and Al are with him."

The two men moved at either side of him, but didn't restrain him, or even grab his arms to move him with their steps. "You seem to hate me, but you trust me enough to simply follow you?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Fuery is very good with a gun, and if you try anything, I'll have you on fire before you get two steps out of line," Roy said, looking ahead.

"On fire?" Roy raised his left hand and snapped, a tiny ball of flame starting from his fingertips rising into the air where it was slowly dispersed. Frank couldn't help himself. He looked at the man's handd in surprise. He'd never seen anything like that, and perhaps a bit of Edward's own curiosity had rubbed off on him. Roy moved his hand back, giving Frank a glimpse of the red symbol on the back. "Alchemy? That was real fire alchemy?"

"I've been doing it for years, Archer. You should know that."

0o0o0o0

Ed hadn't been able to shake the twins, despite the fact that they both hated hospitals. Sitting in the waiting area, with one curled under each of his arms, Aideen's own around him in a sort of death grip, Nicholas's broken one draped as close to a hug as he could manage, the other one behind Ed's back. Their father didn't envy them the fear they must have felt. He knew the feeling well enough, and he wasn't about to tell the two they needed to go away from him as long as they were still frightened or at least finally able to get a little relief from their worry. Ed had done his best to explain to them that the mistake had been made because the man who'd died looked a little like him, not wanting to say he looked exactly like him.

"You're not going to die, are you, Daddy?" Nicholas asked.

"Duh," Aideen said, "everyone dies." The gold and brown eyes looked up at Ed. "But you won't soon, will you?"

"Not if I can do anything about it." He kissed the tops of the twins' heads.

"But if you did, we could bring you back. We're already really good at alchemy."

"Aideen," Ed said, shifting his daughter to look him directly in the eyes, his voice turning stern. "You are never to perform alchemy to bring someone back to life."

"But why not? Humans are made up of normal stuff. I have enough in my piggy bank to buy what they're made of."

"But you can't bring back that person's soul," Ed said, taking his chair and repositioning it so that he could look at both of his children at once, noticing Al moving from his spot near the hall to the operating room. "I wanted to tell you this much later than this, but I suppose it had to come sooner or later." He inhaled deeply. "Human transmutation is forbidden." He pushed a stray black hair out of Aideen's eyes with his automail hand. "You know that my mother died when I was just about your age?" Both heads nodded. "Your Uncle Al and I tried to bring her back when I was eleven and he was ten. You both know the laws of alchemy, what is the big one?"

"Equivalent exchange," Nicholas said. "You can't get anything without something else of equal value."

"Right. What's the value of a soul?" The twins looked at him, then at one another, as though waiting to see if there was a right or wrong answer to that question. "Your Uncle Al lost his body and I put his soul in a suit of armor. And I lost my arm and leg." Nicholas reached out, putting his hand on the knee of the leg he'd hated for so long, Aideen grabbing his hand. "And even that wasn't enough for our mother's soul."

"It took a long time to get my body back," Al said from behind them, "and even though we tried, your daddy didn't get his arm and leg back."

"That doesn't seem fair," Nicholas said, then quickly looked down. "I'm sorry Uncle Al."

Al knelt beside the seated boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think it's fair either."

"And after all that, we still didn't have our mother back." Ed moved his hands to his children's faces. "You have to understand if anything happens, you can't just bring someone back to make it better. It doesn't fix anything; it only makes it all worse."

"What about animals?" Nicholas asked. "Black Hayate and Carlida are getting old. What would happen if we brought them back?"

"It's the same," Ed said, not really lying, but rather sounding definite about something he was only relatively certain about. He moved his chair back between the twins. "Now, no more talk of this kind of stuff, okay? I'm here right now, and I know the two of you are brave enough to get through anything if something _should_ ever happen to me. Am I right?" He watched as the two nodded their heads, then he took his seat between them. "I knew I was. You just fled from the entire Amestris army today." Two sets of eyes looked up at him. "Speaking of which, we're going to have a little talk about the fact that you didn't listen to your papa and me. You should have stayed in the conference room with Gracia."

"Sorry," the twins said in near unison before once again taking their place within the arms of their father, both obviously grateful to still be able to do so.

0o0o0o0

Frank had told them some about his world, his connection to Wrath and the Thule Society, but choosing his words carefully as well as what pieces of information he would disclose. He'd been trained to say nothing to interrogators because as a spy there was a risk that he could be traced back to his home country. That was why he didn't make a habit of winding up in enemy hands. But here, in a world that obviously wasn't his own, that didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was ensuring that he didn't say anything that wup Wrath in danger.

As long as he managed to keep certain details to himself, this at least this provided a distraction for him.

"Only a major?" Roy mocked.

"Well, we can't all be fuhrer, you know."

"That has to be a killer for your ego," Roy said, leaning against the hospital bed opposite the chair where Frank sat.

"I'm a spy. If I've done my job well, no one knows I've done it at all. The only reason I got the title of major is because my superior officers felt it was time I at least receive some promotion in rank." Then, with a smile, he added, "The only positive about being a major was that I was your superior officer, and despite your annoying ambition, you had to take orders from me."

"Did you enjoy that? Having to have me under you?" Roy's voice seemed to hold a double meaning, both of them dark and menacing.

"I'd have rather have had any man but you under me. I have no need for ladder climbers. But at least in my world you weren't a very good one." He looked over the fuhrer's uniform. "So how exactly _did_ you manage to make it to fuhrer?"

"I killed him."

Frank couldn't help it. His eyes widened in astonishment. The Roy he'd known was a bastard at times, but for the sake of ambition, he couldn't imagine him actually killing someone. Not only that, he didn't imagine the Roy he'd known to have the talent and instinct necessary to actually kill a head of state and survive.

"He was a homunculus. He'd performed acts of genocide, and carelessly risked his own troops," Roy said. "I was considered a hero for it."

Frank nodded, saying nothing for a moment, waiting for the next bit of questioning, and when it didn't come, he took the chance to talk. "So, can you answer a few questions for me?" he asked the two men in the room with him. Roy raised that single eyebrow, the man in glasses at his side silently deferring to his leader. "Did your Frank shoot your eye out?"

"Yes."

"Explains my swollen jaw then." Frank rubbed the bruising spot where Roy had punched him, then flicked a piece of fuzz off of his pants. "And the automail. He was half machine?"

"At the end, yes," Roy said.

"And you and Ed of this world, you're together?" Roy nodded. "And your country supports you despite it?"

"Why wouldn't they?" the man in the glasses—Fuery—asked.

"So it doesn't matter here?"

"Not in Amestris, no."

"Strange, I never expected you for the type. But in my world you were married to a woman, so I suppose that is what's confusing me."

"A woman?"

"Her name is Riza Hawkeye."

"She's still alive… in your world?"

"She died here?" Roy only nodded in response, a sad expression on his face. It seemed that this Roy had also been with Riza, and perhaps that was where those two children had come from, though Frank couldn't imagine the Riza he'd known approving of her children calling Roy's male lover Daddy. "She's alive. And the two of you have nine-year-old twins, Nicholas and Aiden."

"Aideen," Roy said, correcting Frank.

"No, Aiden."

Roy looked at him strangely, but before any more could be said, the door opened, the furher's sister, Raine, stepping in. "I'm on my way to the waiting room where Ed and Al are. Are you done knocking him senseless?" With her cool black eyes, she looked at Frank. "You mean you didn't even lay a hand on the bastard? I'm ashamed of you Pyro."

The two men ordered Frank to stand, and following the female doctor, they went into the waiting room, finding Ed and Al looking up at her anxiously, Ed with the two children asleep on him, the boy with his head on Ed's right leg, the girl leaning against his arm. Carefully, he guided the girl to stretch out on the chairs to her left and lifted the boy's head so he could slide out from beneath it. He and Al stood near Raine as she explained the extent of Wrath's injuries.

"There were several lacerations, and he has broken his legs too badly for me to set and fuse them immediately, but his arms will be fine. At this point, what troubles me is the damage to his spinal chord. It has been severed above his waist."

"So, he won't be able to walk again?" Frank asked.

"Who said that? It's just going to take a very long time for me to heal it. It's not a process I can rush." Frank hated the look she was giving him, that look that seemed to say 'You're an idiot. You don't know anything about this place.' In the last few hours, he'd gotten it repeatedly when he wasn't receiving hated glares from the various soldiers and military personnel. "The biggest part of it all is going to depend on him now."

"I seriously believe he's going to wish he was dead," Frank said, not so much to those around him, but to himself.

"He was close to Edward? Like he was to Ed?"

"You could say that. Edward was his…" Frank searched for the right word. "lover. I doubt he's going to want to go on once he's awake and aware."

"Lover?" Ed asked, looking almost repulsed. "But he was like my little brother. You can't be serious."

"But you are not Edward." That fact seemed to be proven over and over again. No, he was not the gentle, passive man he so resembled. "Edward was different, and they _were_ lovers. For around five years."

"But…" Ed looked confused, not to mention disgusted, as he still apparently considered Wrath the equivalent of family.

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank noticed as Roy possessively put an arm around Ed's shoulders.

0o0o0o0

It was over an hour before Raine told the men in the waiting room that she was going to try to wake Wrath. Ed left the children with Winry, who had brought Sasha and the rest of her and Al's little brood—they'd already adopted two other children, one girl, one boy—to the hospital with her. The group of children was on the floor of the waiting room playing a board game, Aideen trying to let the younger kids win and purposely making Nicholas lose after he'd won three games in a row.

Walking by them, he patted the children's heads, his own and his nieces and nephew. Then he signaled to Roy as he passed by the makeshift interrogation room that Wrath was going to be awake soon. It went unnoticed as the men continued to talk, and the blond finally stepped inside. Ed couldn't help but notice that while all the pretences of a military interrogation were in place, the snatches of what he'd caught between the two seemed like conversation mixed with bits of one-upmanship, as the two men seemed to be trading insults as they talked, Fuery observing all the while.

When they saw Ed, the blond Archer stood immediately and walked ahead of Roy and Fuery, determined to see the man he called a friend. Side by side with this Archer, Ed walked into the room where they'd moved Wrath, Raine already at the tall man's side.

Looking at the man who had been just a child when he left, Ed was struck by how much he reminded him of Izumi. His features, his build, they were all hers. There were traces of Sig in there as well, with his height and strong jaw, but with the head of long braids, the resemblance remained with Ed's late teacher. Ed stood on the side of the bed opposite Raine, the new Archer standing beside him, looking at Raine in awe as she brought her tattooed hands together and brought them to Wrath's chest, glowing.

Slowly, the deep violet eyes opened, looking as though they were trying to focus. He looked around the room, seeing Frank, mouth moving to call him "Stephen," but hardly any noise coming out. Careful of any injury, Ed put his own hand on Wrath's shoulder to comfort him, something years of parenting had ingrained in him. It directed the young man's attention to him, and before Ed could move away, a set of bandaged arms was in the air, large hands grapping hold of Ed's head to pull him down into an embrace, then a needy kiss.

Eyes widening, Ed didn't know what to do. He was a married man, and had instinctively held up his hands as he'd seen Roy do—on more occasions than Ed liked to think of—when a strange woman or man had made an attempt to kiss the fuhrer, but he didn't try to pull away, afraid he would upset the man below him. Then, the violet eyes that had closed upon kissing Ed opened once again, pulling himself away, then grabbed hold of Ed's right hand.

No words spoken, he looked up at Ed, then over at the people surrounding him, seeming to search for the man he'd mistaken Ed for. All watched painfully as the tears came, the realization of what had happened. Wrath tried to move, probably to run off somewhere to deal with these strange emotions, but discovered what had yet to be explained to him: his legs didn't work, and wouldn't for quite some time. They were in matching casts, and as far as Ed could tell, nothing below Wrath's waist could feel anything. Raine tried to explain to the inconsolable twenty-year-old that he would regain use of his limbs shortly, but it seemed with his lover dead, that was the least of his concerns.

Most disturbing was the lack of words. He didn't speak, hardly made any noise, only sobbed, quietly grasping hold of Archer's hand and allowing the older man to hold him for a moment as Wrath cried into the shoulder offered him. Ed also realized that his presence, at the moment, hurt Wrath, and so he patted the large man's arm, moving away beside Roy.

"We can continue our conversation later, Fuhrer," Archer said. "At the moment, I think Ulysses just needs a friend."

"I will stay here with them," Fuery said. "You and Ed should go home with the twins, it's been a long day, and for now, the battle seems to be over."

Roy nodded, following Ed's eyes to the two men at the bed men, the older one, so closely resembling someone Ed hated with every fiber of his being, comforting the younger, actually shedding tears himself. This definitely wasn't Frank Archer, not the one he'd known, the one who'd permanently disfigured his husband, killed Wrath's own mother, Ed's teacher. This man was drastically different, or damned good at putting up an act.

Ed quickly left to gather the children, trying to remove himself from Wrath's sight, lightly touching his lips with his fingers. He knew the kiss, given that kiss more times than he could count, having a husband who was fuhrer and on the battlefield and being a soldier himself. This Archer hadn't been lying when he'd said that Wrath and that other version of himself were lovers.

"Daddy?" Aideen asked from her place at the game between her brother and Sasha. "Is your friend going to be okay?"

"It's going to take a while," he said. He looked over to Winry. "I think Al wants to stay with Wrath for a moment, introduce himself properly, comfort Wrath a bit. Roy and I are heading back to the house for the night."

"We get to go home?" Nicholas asked. "I don't have to sleep at the Central office again?"

Ed shook his head as he felt a hand sneaking around his waist. He looked up to find Roy bending down to place a kiss on his lips. "Trying to mark your territory, military dog?" Ed asked after Roy ended the brief kiss, noting the same sort of underlying need behind it as had been in Wrath's.

"Just doing what I've wanted to do for the last few hours." Ed felt himself being squeezed tighter in the older man's grip. "While I was in with Fuery and Archer, I got a phone call."

"Yeah, I remember. What was it about?"

"The rocket scared the Drachman leaders," Roy said. "They think if we're crazy enough to let that loose in our own country, then we would certainly be willing to do more damage in theirs. We have a temporary cease-fire with upcoming negotiations for a treaty." Ed watched as Aideen and Nicholas neatly stacked the money and cards for the game, which their younger cousins didn't have the patience to do.

"You didn't lie and tell them we did it, did you?"

"Not at all," Roy said. "I told them I gave no order to release it."

"So you responded with political bullshit." Ed rolled his eyes; Roy only shrugged. "So what do we do with Wrath and Archer?"

"We wait until tomorrow," Roy said as their children ran up to them. "Right now, I want to be a little selfish after all this fighting and thinking I'd lost you." He ruffled Nicholas's hair. "I just want to finally go home and be with my family. We've been at war too long."

0o0o0o0

"I expected much more fighting between the two of you, you know," Ed said, resting on the sofa in the study, his body leaning against Roy's as he sat between the older man's legs, Roy enjoying the feeling of Ed's unbound hair on his smooth fingers as they stroked through the loose satiny blond strands of the man in front of him.

"I want to, I do. I want to hit him, burn him until he's unrecognizable, but not because he is like Archer." Roy traced his fingers over Ed's automail one resting on the fuhrer's knee, somewhat missing the month-long period where it had been overly sensitive and so pleasurable for the younger man. "I want to do all that so I can to him so I forget he looks like Archer, if that makes any sense."

Roy began kissing down Ed's cheek, nestling his nose and mouth beneath the line of the younger man's jaw, kissing there to remember how his husband tasted.

"So what did he say about his world?"

The older man looked up, somewhat perturbed. "Do you really want to talk about this now?"

"I'm curious. I mean, Roy, I just saw someone who looks like my twin, dead. And honestly, old man, I don't have the energy tonight." Ed latched his hand around Roy's neck, a silent command that the fuhrer didn't have to stop his actions on the younger man's neck.

"He said that the other you was passive, accommodating, and quiet. In other words, nothing like you." Roy felt the metal hand rap him at the back of his neck. "And the other version of me…" Roy paused, trying to think of how to put this exactly. "was a ladder-climbing bastard who didn't consider others as he fought to get to the top."

"Aside from not caring about others, it's nice to know that some things don't change," Ed said. Roy, in response bit down on a bit of the soft flesh of his husband's neck, drawing it into his mouth. "Damn it, that's going to leave a mark."

"I also found out one of the changes you made in the twins aside from the noticeable things like Aideen's eyes and Nicholas's complexion." Ed tilted his head to look at him as Roy shifted his arms around the young, strong shoulders. "You made Aideen a girl."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'd have had twin boys if it hadn't been for you." Roy had to admit it was hard to imagine the little girl who brought a delicacy and softness to his world being a second rambunctious boy like her brother. Perhaps if he'd had the twin boys, his sentiments would be different, but he really didn't even like the idea of not having his daughter now that he had her. "Could you imagine a house full of men?"

"Well, we wouldn't have a purple bedroom upstairs." Ed stared at the ceiling for a moment, then said, more to himself than to Roy, "It wouldn't seem right without her."

"No," Roy answered.

"I wonder why the other versions of us weren't together," Ed thought aloud. Roy nuzzled once again beneath Ed's jaw. "What do you know?" Ed pulled away and turned himself around to face Roy. "What?"

"Riza."

"Oh, it makes sense." Ed sat in front of him sullenly.

"What do you mean it makes sense? Do you have any idea how wrong it feels knowing that somewhere, you and I didn't find a way—"

"If Riza hadn't died here, Roy, we wouldn't have found a way here, either." Ed ran his flesh hand over Roy's right cheek. "That thought has to cross your mind on occasion." The blond pressed his forehead to Roy's. "I know it does mine. Do you know how guilty I feel knowing my happiness was dependent on the death of one of my friends?"

The older man once again occupied his hands in the long blond locks, pushing Ed's lips to his own. "Well, what does it say about me that I'm happy too?" he said after they'd finished the quick kiss. He was genuinely happy with his life as it was and at the moment, feeling particularly sorry for Wrath's loss. More than most, Roy understood that kind of pain and had even thought his own Ed was gone. Thinking back on that sinking despair, the thought that he would be left with the twins, and once again, he was alone, there was a part of him that wanted to reaffirm to himself and the world that yes, the Fullmetal Alchemist was still very much alive, very much in his arms, and very much his.

The two kissed again, Roy allowing a little of his relief and gratitude that Ed was still with him entering that kiss. As their tongues mingled like old friends, the two fathers heard a gentle padding in the hallway.

"Crap," Ed said. "Aideen's sleepwalking again."

"As long as she's not performing alchemy this time," Roy said, "I think we're okay."

The blond rose from his spot to go and retrieve their daughter and escort her back to her bedroom, leaving Roy in the study, gathering his thoughts, watching the blond with his long hair dipping over his left shoulder, leaning over, guiding the little girl with the straight jet-black hair back toward the stairs. As his eyes followed them beyond where he could actually see his husband and daughter, Roy tried to contemplate his life without them.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 **

_**Reflections**_

Laying beneath the down comforter of her bedroom, Dante contemplated exactly how to contact the people on the other side of the Gate, now that they'd finally managed to find a serpent to wrap around the portal. In that amount of time, the people on the other side could have successfully created a perfect chimera that would have served the same purpose ten times over. Then again, she had not spelled out word for word what they needed to do, which apparently was necessary with this group. Whoever it was who had sent the rocket and its passengers through the Gate was the closest thing to an ally that Dante had at the moment, and based on their slow progress, it depressed her immensely.

Admittedly, it would not have benefited the ancient alchemist very much if they had come sooner, and with each passing year that they proved their incompetency, it gave Dante better leverage, and more control over her situation on her own world. She laid and wondered to herself if without the formerly tiny homunculus to perform the alchemy, would people on the other side even be capable of it any longer? Was Hohenheim still alive on the other side to do it for them?

She would have to find another key on this side as well to give them instructions, detailed instructions. The child from Lior had become a ten-year-old boy by now much too old to open the gate. No, Dante needed to find a baby, the easiest way to open the portal, or at the very least a toddler, now that the blocks the meddling sons of her former husband had placed around central were null and void. The opening of the gate and the new, stronger connection between the two worlds would mean the baby didn't have to show any sign of alchemic power, merely be young and innocent.

As she nestled herself beneath the warm covers of her bed, Dante allowed sleep to claim her, deciding that tomorrow was another day, and she had no reason to rush.

0o0o0o0

Fuery sat at his place at the rear of the hospital room, where he'd observed for the last few hours as this man who looked so much like Frank Archer remained, grasping onto Wrath's arm, crying, himself, at the loss. Then, as the hours turned back to single digits, Archer had fallen asleep, head slumped onto his chest, faintly snoring. Fuery, watching this other Archer shivering at the cool hospital air, had grabbed an extra blanket from the corner, throwing it over the older man's shoulders, feeling more than a bit strange being kind to the bastard's look-a-like.

Occasionally, Fuery would notice Wrath's eyes opening, looking around the dimly lit room, then close again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. There would be silent tears, but never once did the younger man want Fuery anywhere near him. Archer, alone, was allowed to touch the former homunculus, and at the very least, the older man seemed to offer some form of comfort to the grieving, wounded man on the bed.

Fuery couldn't help but pity Wrath. He'd lost friends on the battlefield, even an ex-boyfriend, and yet, he still could only imagine what the dark-haired man was going through at the moment.

0o0o0o0

_It was one of the few times Edward was actually willing to top Wrath. For whatever reason the younger man couldn't fathom, the elder seemed to have reluctance at being seme in their relationship. And all the while he was almost overly gentle and cautious. Wrath found it rather funny that Edward, who on more than one occasion lost himself to his own hormones on bottom never once lost control on top. The brunet found it funny because the only other option for Wrath was to be very concerned about what was going through his lover's mind to make him behave this way. _

_Wrath had insisted they face one another this time, and he'd worked hard to ensure that his face showed no pain, no doubt throughout the process. Edward was so terrified of hurting Wrath, terrified almost of enjoying himself, that Wrath wanted to show the blond that yes, he liked this, and no, just because Edward was the smaller, less dominant of the two, he didn't have to be bottom. _

_Still, careful and slow as the man always seemed to take this, Edward was still forcing Wrath to cry out, louder and louder with each thrust until finally, the former homunculus was completely spent, Edward as well, collapsed on top of the larger man's body. The afterglow of it all was nice, neither caring that they were a mess and needed to clean off, and to tidy up the rest of the apartment before Stephen returned home from London. They fell asleep in one another's arms, or rather Edward fell asleep in Wrath's arms. That always irritated the older man, that in comparison to Wrath he seemed little more than a child._

0o0o0o0

Once again, Wrath found himself sobbing, seeing the dark, watchful eyes of the mousy-looking man at the back of the room observing him. Why the hell did he have to watch his pain? Was it enjoyable for him to see Wrath suffer? Did it get him off?

Why was that man in the room at all? Stephen was the only person he could bear to look at right now. Al might not have been so bad. He was glad the man had his body back, and under other circumstances, Wrath might have felt a little pride that he was the reason Al was whole once again. Roy he already despised from the other world and he was undeniably jealous of this one, having Edward—no, not Edward, Edward was gone, dead—Ed all to himself.

Then there was Ed, when Wrath had first seen him, he hadn't taken into consideration that the hair was pulled back and not cut off, that the face was fuller and more mature, that the eyes were colder from more than one death at their owner's hands, that the build was broader and even beneath the blue military uniform held the promise of rippling muscles. Thinking back, Wrath knew he had simply seen the blond hair, golden eyes, and gentle expression.

Oh, God, he had kissed him. He had kissed Ed. It all seemed like such a haze, but he'd really done it.

And once again, through that shock of the memory, he sobbed, glancing up through his tears to find the man with the glasses was staring at the wall rather than at Wrath even though he obviously knew the former homunculus was awake.

0o0o0o0

_The letter arrived under the door the next morning. The sated couple, lounging in their bed, was thoroughly enjoying that because the Thule society was in the process of attaching the serpent formerly known as Envy to the ceiling of the chamber, they didn't have work that day. They had not found the note, but Stephen did, kicking it into the apartment as he carried two armloads of groceries and letters from Hohenheim for the two younger men. _

"_What the hell?" _

_Wrath opened his eyes, looking to the man his body had completely enveloped. "Edward, I think Stephen's home." _

_Edward's eyes slowly opened, still looking a bit glazed with sleep. Wrath made his way to a wash basin, scrubbing off the remnants of last night's activities from his body before pulling on a clean set of clothes, not bothering with the shirt as he went out to see if Stephen was angry that the two younger men had left the apartment such a mess. Edward slowly rolled his way off of their joined beds, stretching and grinning with a mix of leftover afterglow and sleepiness. "I'm sorry about the apartment," Wrath said, ducking as he went through the much too short doorway. _

"_I don't care about the damned mess." He handed Wrath the paper he had in his hands. "It's an eviction notice. The owner of the shop downstairs overheard last evening's 'activities' and wants us out, or more specifically wants the two of you out. The only reason you two haven't been reported to the authorities is because we technically _are_ the authorities." _

_Grabbing the first shirt available, Wrath had stormed out of the apartment and down to the shop below, ignoring Stephen and even Edward as the blonds yelled after him. He stormed into the shop, the owner giving him a nervous smile the moment their eyes met. _

"_I need to speak to you. Now." _

"_I said what I wanted to in that letter. I wish to have the apartment vacant by the end of this month, so it can be thoroughly sanitized." _

_Wrath's violet eyes narrowed, and he moved his way through the racks of men's clothing in front of him to get closer to the owner. "Do you have any idea what you are doing?" _

"_Do you?" the man returned. _

_Wrath drew his arm back, fist clenched, prepared to strike this man. How dare he? How dare he judge Wrath simply because he loved Edward? _

_Then, he felt two calloused hands grabbing hold of his wrist. "Don't," a small voice said, as Wrath looked down to see it was Edward grabbing him. "If he wants us gone, then that is all there is to it." _

"_He has no right to dictate what goes on in my be—" One of Edward's hands was on his mouth before the word bedroom escaped them. _

"_Be quiet, Ulysses," he said in a whisper. "We are in a public place." _

_Wrath pulled Edward's hand off of his face. "But this isn't his decision and it isn't his business." _

"_This is his store, and you need to keep your voice down. You're attracting attention. We don't need that." _

"_Right," Wrath said, walking out of the store, turning back at the owner. "Don't worry. I'll be gone." _

_Edward followed him to the enclosed stairwell. "So, what we do is fine for our own bedroom, but not in public." _

"_It could get us killed. People don't accept it." _

"_They don't accept it because no one stands up for themselves." Wrath glared at Edward. "And don't cover my mouth again. If I choose to announce to the world that I'm a homosexual, or bisexual, or straight or like to screw cows, I will do it. If you want to kowtow, you go right ahead. I'll be damned before I do."_

0o0o0o0

Wrath heaved yet another sigh, fighting back tears that seemed to have momentarily dried up. Why did they have to save him? He didn't deserve to go on. He'd been so cruel to Edward in those final days, starting fights with him, yelling at him for not standing up for what he was. He should have died with Edward. He _wished_ he'd died with Edward.

As he went to sleep once again, he hoped he'd get that wish.

0o0o0o0

Ed heard laughter and smelled pancakes. Looking through slitted eyes at the window, it seemed dawn was just barely breaking, but he felt he was probably the last one awake in the house.

"We wanted to surprise you," Aideen said, steadily holding out a tray of pancakes with blueberry syrup. Ed looked down at the breakfast before him, with bacon and eggs on a nearby plate.

"We didn't make them," Nicholas said, handing Ed a glass of orange juice. "Papa did." Ed looked up at the doorway, seeing Roy leaning against the doorframe, arms folded.

"They gave it a good try. I heard them making some noise in the kitchen, so I went down and gave them a hand."

"So what's this for?"

"Um, just because," Nicholas said, obviously not finishing with 'we thought you were dead.'

The twins sat eagerly on Roy's side of the bed as Ed cut into the first pancake, taking a bite, savoring the sweet syrup. He ruffled Nicholas's hair, thanking him, then placed a kiss to Aideen's forehead, as she was closer.

Scrunching her face up, she rubbed the spot where he'd kissed her, "That was sticky."

He looked at his daughter, feeling all the more claim on her, knowing that she had inherited not only his features and blood type but he now knew specifically that his entire X chromosome made its way through in the exchange of the babies from Riza. Obviously, the noticeable traits were there and he'd always known they were, but to at least know that one bit of his genetic make-up specifically was in that little girl, it pleased him. She was really his, even if he had wiped out a tiny piece of Roy for that claim.

Last night before going to bed, Roy had admitted to being a bit upset that there wasn't an outburst the instant Ed had been informed he'd made Aideen a girl. Apparently he'd anticipated Ed to fly off the handle, demanding if Roy thought he was a girl. After learning that Roy had actually thought that, it had led into a brief lecture about genes and DNA. All of which, Ed had learned and come to understand—better than his husband, apparently—from Roy's own sister. Roy had merely rolled his eyes, kissing Ed to shut him up, then pulled him close on the bed before they'd both drifted off to sleep.

"While I appreciate this, and I do, you two do realize you still have to be punished for running off like you did."

The twins nodded, looking down at the bed, as though in hopes that down-turned puppy dog eyes would somehow force their Daddy to give in. He'd been building up a resistance to their uncle over the years, and Al had long been the master of the puppy dog eye, even when he'd been in the suit of armor. And even at their most innocent, the two children rarely looked or behaved like it. Like it or not, the twins were miniaturized adults from spending far too much time around them. Even at twenty-five and as the father of three, Al looked far more child-like than the two nine-year-olds watching Ed enjoy his meal.

"No spanking or grounding. Instead, since I technically am off duty today, I'm taking you around to every military officer who chased you through the streets or through the office, and I'm going to have you apologize to each one individually."

The two mouths gaped. "Every one?" Nicholas asked.

"Every single one." Ed bit down on a piece of bacon. Chewing it and swallowing it, he couldn't help but notice two sets of eyes looking eagerly at his breakfast, bacon being Aideen's favorite and blueberry pancakes Nicholas's. "There's an awful lot of food here. I don't know if I could eat it all. Roy, would you like to split this with me?" The twins looked crestfallen.

"Oh, no," Roy said, a faint smile on his face. "I ate all of my mistakes downstairs. I'm not very hungry now. I think you'll have to finish it yourself."

He cut a piece of the pancakes, spearing it on his fork, watching Nicholas follow the food with his eyes. Ed darted his hand with the fork out to his son, handing his daughter a piece of the bacon. As the twins ate, they grinned, encouraging their father to eat, but not too much, telling him to save some for them.

Roy walked into the room, sitting at Ed's feet, running a hand up his husband's right calf. "I have to head to the office and speak with the leader of Drachma to start the workings of a treaty, and then I'm going to continue talking to the other Archer."

"We'll probably see you there. After the little brats here are done apologizing to your army," Ed said with smirk to the twins, "we're going to stop off at the hospital. I want to see how Wrath is doing."

Roy stood up, moving to Ed, pressing their lips together. When he pulled back, he darted out a tongue, licking a bit of syrup from his mouth. "Mmm. Blueberry."

0o0o0o0

A warrant officer under this man Fuery's command brought the pack of sharpened pencils, eraser, and pack of white paper. He handed the items to the lieutenant colonel, saluted and left. Frank watched as the smaller man handed him the items, grateful to have something to do to take his mind off of yesterday's events. So, he began to sketch, starting first with his best recollection of the twins from London, as they seemed to be of particular interest to the fuhrer.

He sensed the young intelligence officer watching over his shoulder.

"Aren't you tired?"

"I have gone without sleep before."

"And you really are in charge of military intelligence?" Frank asked as he worked to properly draw Nicholas's eyes. It had been far too long since he'd gotten to draw for drawing sake. Usually, he was stuck creating alchemic circles, sometimes doing sketches of suspects for the government.

"Yes, I am."

"You seem young." Wrath shifted on the bed at the other side of the room, but appeared to still be sleeping. "But then again, Roy isn't all that old to be fuhrer, either. If he's the same age as the one I knew, he should be about forty."

"Not just yet, but he's been fuhrer for nearly ten years now."

Frank raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he started drawing Aiden. "I suppose I may never make sense of this place. You have a fuhrer who has a male lover—"

"Husband," Fuery said in a correcting tone.

"Husband? Wow." Frank shaded Aiden's dark hair. "And you use alchemy like a science, though it looks more like magic to me."

"Not everyone. Most of us are just normal people."

Feeling satisfied with his work, Frank set the paper aside and went to sketching another, this time of a dirigible, planning that his next one should be that of a rocket. "Seems like that would make it unbalanced."

"It does, but there are benefits to being mediocre. We were never used as human weapons. State alchemists like the fuhrer and even to a lesser extent Ed weren't given a choice."

"Human weapons?" Frank said, glancing up from his sketch. "So that was what I saw in Roy's—the fuhrer's—eye, even that other Edward. Those were the faces of people who've not only seen battle, but had to confront it close-up." He looked up at Fuery. "It's there in yours too." Frank's sharp blue eyes went back to his work.

"I could say the same for you," the man with the glasses said. "But that's the life of a soldier." Out of his peripheral vision, Frank could see that Fuery was looking over at Wrath. "I'm surprised he didn't recognize you." Again, Frank stopped what he was doing to look up at the seemingly mousy man. "One of the last things he did before crossing through the gate was pound Frank Archer into a bloody mess after he'd killed Wrath's mother. But the colonel didn't exactly look much like himself, half metal and all."

"The bastard killed Ulysses's mother?" Fuery only nodded. "Bloody hell." Frank looked up at Wrath, thinking back on the patch the fuhrer seemed unwilling to remove. "Why wasn't I shot on sight?"

"The fact that you weren't shows the fuhrer's at least giving you the benefit of the doubt."

0o0o0o0

Wrath kept his eyes closed. He could hear them talking, chatting like nothing had happened. In the back of his mind, the former homunculus knew that Stephen, or Frank as he'd heard the obnoxious man with the glasses call Wrath's roommate, was able of shutting off his emotions temporarily, letting them boil inside until he found a release—usually shooting or punching someone once they surfaced. But after someone he considered a friend had died… How _dare_ he act as though nothing was wrong!

Screw him, Wrath thought to himself. No one understood.

Then, to hear the annoying man say that Stephen was Frank Archer, the man who'd shot his mother and even kidnapped him once before, it was all Wrath could do not to at least make the attempt to get out of bed again. That was who he was, and he hadn't recognized him.

He was useless. He couldn't recognize a possible enemy, couldn't save Edward. And now, he couldn't even move his damned legs.

By now, he was growing more and more angry, and this Frank, Stephen, whatever the hell his name was, was coming over to him to try to comfort him. Wrath could only glower at him darkly, his legs still absolutely worthless.

"Okay Ulysses," he said. "I won't come over there." The man Wrath had thought he'd known half-smiled at him. "You've always wanted to know my name and why I looked familiar. I just wish it wasn't because I looked like the son of a bitch who hurt you so much."

Trapped in the room with these men he didn't want near him, Wrath threw one of his pillows at them both and buried his head beneath the remaining one feeling at a loss between his rage and grief to do more than he already had.

0o0o0o0

Walking through the streets of Central, Ed guided the twins to the individual soldiers who had been chasing them the day before, watching as they apologized, noticing that the punishment had knocked their egos down a few pegs. It had taken much of the morning, but the only ones left were Falman and Fuery. Part of Ed felt he needed to discipline them further for leaving the conference area, but he couldn't bring himself to get as angry as maybe he should have at them for trying to find him. He was worried that they had put themselves into danger, but he knew well enough that he'd have done the same in their position, hearing their parent was dead. He'd already demonstrated the lengths he'd go to for his family.

Seeing a few buildings that had come crashing down, Ed could hear the distinctively confident sound of General Alex Armstrong, apparently rebuilding the city. He really didn't want living in a city that was essentially a shrine to the Armstrong line, with statues everywhere like Lior, so Ed decided to give the twins a break from the punishment while he helped to repair some of the damage done by the battle that had been going on for the last five days.

Observing a few of the broken buildings, he was grateful that at the time being, the reporters who had hounded him for going on ten years seemed to have something better to do. Clapping his hands, Ed began repairing busted walls and broken glass. He saw that not far from him, Aideen was doing the same with the town's fountain. Nicholas occasionally repaired something, but as he'd found Phillip had come to repair the town with his step-father, the boy was otherwise occupied goofing off and being a kid.

Nearing his daughter, Ed tried to encourage her to play, telling the dark-haired child to enjoy herself with her brother and their friend, but she shook her head.

"This is good practice. And the boys don't really like me to play all the time." Ed rubbed the little girl's pale cheek and allowed her to get back to what she was doing. He had to find her another girl to be around now that Elysia was a teenager and didn't have as much time to hang out with the nine-year-old.

There seemed to be hope of that when Aideen approached a girl just a year or two younger than her, crying over a broken doll destroyed in one of the blasts. His daughter instructed the girl to put the doll down and with a clap of her hands and a quick transmutation, the toy was back in one piece.

But then it came like it always did.

"Thank you, Miss Mustang." Ed didn't understand why, but his daughter was addressed this way by nearly everyone, never correcting them as Nicholas did when they tried to call him Mister or, worse yet, Master. Aideen only smiled, nodded and watched the girl run off to show her mother what "the fuhrer's daughter did." Going on seemingly unfazed, Aideen continued to make repairs, her father doing the same until they saw Armstrong standing, watching Phillip and Nicholas racing one another to repair the pieces of a rather elaborate sculpture that stood at the center of the city. Nicholas, to be fair, was drawing the alchemic symbols, rather than just clapping his hands.

Ed spotted Rose with her younger son, undeniably an Armstrong, in her arms, smiling as she watched. It was good to see her smile like that again, though Ed would never have expected Armstrong to be the one who made her do it. Aideen went over to Rose, immediately chatting away to the older woman while Edward tried not to cheer too loudly as his son won the little race. It was horribly sided in Nicholas's favor, but a father had the right to be proud, after all.

After working with the twins and the two members of the Armstrong clan to restore Central for little over an hour, Ed took the twins to the hospital to see Roy and Wrath, and have them apologize to Fuery.

"Can we meet him, Daddy?" Aideen asked. "He's the one who traded himself to the Gate isn't he?"

"He is, but we'll have to see how he's feeling." The girl knowingly nodded as the three walked to the hospital, making their way to the room where Roy was once again "interrogating" the new Archer.

Poking his head inside, Ed saw Roy and the other man were exchanging photos and drawings, much to the younger blond's confusion. There was still no fighting between the two.

"I still cannot believe you have this kind of quality in color photographs. It's incredible," Archer said. Ed cleared his throat to make his presence known. The blond man, who—guessing by the slight dark roots—wasn't really blond, looked up at Ed with a sad smile. Roy looked up from a stack of drawings, then down at the two heads that Ed realized had appeared at either side of the door. The fuhrer waved them all inside, Nicholas interested in the sketches in Roy's hands, Aideen immediately confronting the older man sitting next to Roy.

"Are you the one who shot him?" she asked, sounding stern.

"No," the blond Archer said. "But I think I look a lot like the man who did." The twins looked to Roy, who nodded in agreement, apparently having resolved that this man was definitely not the asshole he'd known since his days at the academy. Ed saw Archer looking over Aideen's face, then Nicholas's, then their fathers'. He looked incredibly confused; Ed liked that. "How… They look like you. Do you have a sister?"

"Just a little brother. A _tall_ little brother," he added bitterly.

"Your sister?" Archer asked Roy.

"No." Roy flipped through one of the photo albums, trying to find the pictures that had been flashed everywhere since the twins were born.

"But he…" Archer said, looking at Nicholas "he looks like Riza."

Opening the book and putting it in front of Archer, Roy pointed to the first in a series of shots of Ed's growing stomach, Ed looking absolutely miserable in each and every one of them. Roy had insisted they'd be necessary for proof for the twins and the rest of the world, but Ed had hated them more and more with each pound he gained. Engrossed in the photos before him, Archer followed them in progress to the one that had been taken by a nurse in the delivery room, thankfully not revealing anything that had been covered by a sheet on the day the twins were born. Those blue eyes Ed hated so much looked up at him, the otherwise stern mouth open, then back down at the photo. He seemed to be trying to mouth the word "How," but failed each and every time.

"Alchemy," Ed answered, as Nicholas picked up a drawing of what could have been the twins' brothers, Ed realizing that these were, in fact, the twins of the other world, the twins minus his influence.

"So, you're a wo—"

"Finish that word and _you'll_ be one," Ed said. "I'm all male, thank you very much. Between alchemically transferring the babies," He rubbed the back of both of the twin's heads. "and female hormones that were regularly injected into me, I looked like that."

"How often does _this_ happen?" Archer asked.

"Once, as far as anyone knows." Ed looked around the room, allowing Archer to repeatedly flip through the photo album. "No Fuery?"

"I sent him home to sleep."

"What about Wrath?"

"Raine's in with Wrath right now, and Al said he'd be down in an hour to visit with him."

"Daddy," Nicholas asked, "since Uncle Al can visit, can we?"

"Maybe," Ed said, "but not for long." Ed started to turn, but saw the twins were already running well ahead of him.

0o0o0o0

Wrath laid in the bed, letting the woman who looked so much like Roy poke and prod at his legs, using alchemy to try and heal them, nagging him for being resistant. He tried to fight her, but she merely put him in his place verbally with her rather sharp tongue and physically with her alchemy.

Then, he saw two children standing opening the door, the girl poking her head in. "Are you Wrath?" she asked. Wrath only nodded. The girl and the boy ran toward him, stopping just a few inches from his bed.

"Nicholas, Aideen, what are you doing?" the doctor asked.

"We wanted to visit him. Daddy said he's upset, and we wanted to thank him," the boy said, looking up at the woman, then down at Wrath. "He went through the gate and kept us safe. Something like that's worth thanking someone for."

These were the twins, Wrath realized, as the girl rubbed the man's arm carefully, the anger in him wanting to melt for just a moment.

Then, Ed appeared at the door. "If they're bothering you, they can leave."

Wrath shook his head, Ed starting to turn back out of the door, Wrath waving a hand for him to come back in. He could stand to look at the man who'd promised to make him human all those years ago, as long as he focused on the differences, not the similarities between Ed and Edward. With a tiny, sympathetic smile, Ed made his way beside the bed beside the twins, Wrath noticing the metal arm still attached to the small body.

The younger man raised his right arm, looking up at Ed, then taking hold of the automail.

"You still have it?" Ed said, surprised as he seemed to notice that the darker skin coloring on the taller man's right hand. Wrath looked at his hand nervously and back up at Ed. "I'm not going to rip it off. I don't want it back." The former homunculus looked at the alchemist in surprise. "This thing," Ed raised his right hand. "has saved these two more times than I can count." He patted the boy's shoulder with his left. "Besides, I don't think it's exactly going to fit anymore." Ed put his right hand up to Wrath's, the automail dwarfed by the larger hand that had once been in its place. Then, he rubbed Wrath's shoulder, saying nothing more, his children each taking a hand and holding it in thanks for his sacrifice those years ago and compassion for how much the young man was hurting now.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 **

_**Comfort and Release **_

The last few days had left Frank's mind spinning. The initial shock and grief gone, part of it thanks to that intelligence officer Fuery, who had gotten permission to take Stephen to a firing range—with Fuery's own gun focused on Frank as long as he had a loaded weapon. It had been nice to get to take out a little of his anger, confusion and hurt on an emotionless target.

Bang. Edward was dead.

Bang. Some other bastard with his face shot Roy—who seemed like a decent guy here—in the face.

Bang. He'd also killed Wrath's mother.

Bang. Wrath was still furious at him, when he seemed to function at all.

Bang. Wrath hadn't spoken a word since initially after the crash.

Bang. The bastard with his name was the reason he had a gun trained at his head.

Bang. Wrath was still injured.

Bang. He would probably never see his world again.

Bang. Even if he did, he was now a disgrace, worthy of court marshal.

Bang. This world confounded him, with its alchemy and a formerly pregnant Ed.

Bang. The gate still had to be closed permanently to protect both worlds.

Round after round, he fired into targets, until finally, he put the gun down, feeling exhausted, more than really he should have. He looked back at Fuery, leaning against a nearby post.

"Thank you," he told the intelligence officer. "I needed that."

"Is this how you usually deal with issues?" Fuery asked him, moving the targets back on their pulleys. "Nice grouping," he added when he saw the centers of the papers had been shot clean through.

"Most of the time it is," Frank said, answering Fuery's question. He couldn't help it as he smiled, feeling a bit of the emotional weight off his shoulders. "I'm sure Freud would have one hell of a time with me." The other man looked at Frank curiously. "Never mind. I'm going to have to learn to make jokes that you people here can get."

Together, the two men walked to a car that was waiting just outside, Frank doing his best to remain unnoticed, afraid that the other him had made additional enemies. Sitting in the backseat beside Fuery, Frank appraised the younger man's uniform. "I'm sorry, but I've got to ask. What is it with your uniforms here? That flap thing."

"It's decorative, mostly. Thankfully, removable now. It used to be attached to the pants. The fuhrer wanted to get rid of it all together, but the public felt it modified the country's uniforms too much. So he just made the coat a bit longer and made the flap optional in battle."

Frank nodded, watching the buildings of the city go by as they drove back to the hospital where Wrath was being treated, with plans to release him today into Ed and Roy's care. Frank was still being shuffled among members of the military, having stayed one night at Fuery's apartment, once with Falman and Roy's sister—with the threat that she'd killed him once and would do it again if he tried to hurt anyone, once with Roy and his family—and that had been awkward, as though there was still more to this story than just the eye, once with a really big bald man named Armstrong and his two sons. Of all the places he'd gotten to stay, Frank had to admit he'd preferred Fuery's place, since the man obviously hated the other Archer, but trusted Frank enough not to watch his every move.

And he needed trust, missed it in this place where everyone who saw him looked ready to kill him.

0o0o0o0

"Okay, the cast is off," Raine said.

Ed watched as Nicholas eagerly began scratching his arm, almost moaning in pleasure as he did. "I've wanted to do that for two weeks."

"Just be glad you've got your Auntie," Ed said. "Otherwise, you'd have had that on for over a month."

Nicholas hugged the dark-haired doctor, thanking her. Then, he looked up at Wrath with a grin as he continued to itch the now free arm. "There are a lot of bad things about what happened to your spine, but you should be glad you can't feel just how much those things itch."

Finally, Ed grabbed Nicholas's hand. "You're going to have your arm rubbed raw. Stop it."

Wrath merely watched with those large, sad eyes. Occasionally, Nicholas would be lucky enough to get a chortle out of the man with the braided hair, but usually, he remained a silent observer. Aideen sat beside Ed, every so often looking up at Wrath disapprovingly. Ed knew his daughter well enough to know her initial sympathy was waning. Aideen understood being upset, depressed even, and she could be kind and compassionate when the person was dealing with these emotions, but her problem was that Wrath wasn't dealing, wasn't coping.

He wouldn't eat, he didn't speak. He seemed to be waiting for death to take him. Ed found it hard to relate to, Aideen finding it far harder, as she had called the former homunculus an idiot more than once, getting disciplined for it, and now didn't even refrain from saying it in front of him. She understood that Wrath felt terrible, and pitied him for it, but when everyone made over him for barely eating, hardly drinking, she only shook her head and muttered under her breath.

Her interest in Wrath had faded, replaced by a voracious appetite for information on the other side of the gate, supplied by Frank—that was the name they were all calling him by after a great deal of debate. Aideen understood that man. He was mourning, but he was moving on and working with Roy and Ed to develop some of the technologies of his world here in Aideen's. That earned the girl's respect, and when he grew silent, obviously thinking about his lost friend, she would pat Frank on the arm, or find a question to distract him from thoughts of Edward.

Still, Aideen pumped him for information on everything from weapons, to flying machines, to musical instruments—a personal favorite of Frank's. And the former spy assured the girl's parents that she was absolutely no bother to him.

Ed only hoped that her attitude with Wrath would improve once he was staying at their home. Aideen hadn't seemed to mind fixing up the library as a makeshift bedroom for the twenty-year-old, and had done so enthusiastically enough. The problem was what would happen when he actually was there. Especially while Roy was away dealing with Drachma.

The blond alchemist noticed as Frank walked through the door, Fuery at his side. "Well, now that the two of you are here. I guess it's time to get Wrath to my place."

"Any news from the fuhrer on how the treaty is going?" Fuery asked.

"Last word I got from him was that the Creta prime minister is practically trying to make the Drachman president sign away half of the country to us." Ed smiled, pleased to know that the strong connection that the country had with Creta was still due largely to the warm reception their emissary had received almost eight years ago. With the negotiations taking place in the so-called "neutral territory" of Creta, Ed had no doubt Amestris would come out of this entire thing much further ahead than Drachma.

Ed watched as Al entered with a wheelchair, pushing it into the room, the leg rests lifted up to support Wrath's still broken limbs.

"Well, are you ready for a change of scenery?" Ed asked the man in the bed. Wrath shrugged. Guiding Wrath as best they could, the four men and Raine sat Wrath's nearly dead weight up on the bed, carefully shifting him to the side of the bed. Ed and Fuery guided Wrath's legs while the two taller men carried his body into the chair. Though there had been a look of defeat on Wrath's face for the last few days, Ed felt oddly happy that the younger man looked almost angry at Frank and Fuery, for whatever reasons he had. There was at least some sign of life inside the silent young man.

0o0o0o0

Frank sat at the kitchen table at the fuhrer's home, watching as the Ed cut bananas and dunked them in some leftover orange juice from earlier that morning before placing them on a small tray.

"It's one of the kids' favorite snacks, and since it isn't cake or junk food, I don't argue," Ed said before putting the tray in that mechanized icebox in the kitchen. Frank had already marveled at the thing for its efficiency, and the fact that the young man had created it on a whim one day when the ice delivery was late.

"Frozen bananas? Do you have any idea how hard oranges and bananas are to get?"

"Not here. We have a good trade relationship with Xing, where they're grown." He accidentally knocked one of the twin's tests off a magnet on the refrigerating unit, carefully picking it back up with a proud grin.

Frank hadn't spent much time with Ed, but most of what he saw of the alchemist seemed to be brash, loud, and fiery. It was during small snatches like these when glimpses of the Edward he'd known on earth shone through. Still, there was something about the level of contentment in this Edward that seemed almost unnatural.

"So, are you happy like this?" Frank asked before blowing on the cup of coffee the true blond had made for him. Ed looked at him questioningly. "Settled, relaxed, um…" Frank had seen Ed's reaction before to the suggestion that he was the woman in his relationship, so Frank hesitated asking the blond if he minded being the "mother" to these kids. Ed folded his arms, letting Frank know he was treading on thin ice. "If that's what you do when you get bored," Frank said, gesturing to the refrigerator and freezer combo, "then I can't imagine you enjoying the sedentary life."

"I miss some of what I used to do, but it's not like I've been bored all of the time. There's travel to other countries, assassination attempts on Roy, me, or my family—which I could seriously do without, my lab out back, the occasional mission, not to mention raising the twins." Ed poured what looked like half of the sugar container into his own cup of coffee. "You make it seem like I do nothing but play house."

There was a knock on the front door, Ed looking up at Frank with some seriousness. "You will want to stay away for a while. That's Al with Wrath's, well, let's call him his father."

Frank nodded, knowing that the other version of himself had shot that man's wife, and Wrath's father would likely try to kill him on sight. Ed blew on his coffee, taking a sip, then stood and went to the front door, the former spy doing his best to stay out of sight. He heard Ed open the door.

"Sig," Ed said, then there was a bit of grunting on his part, as though he was being squeezed tightly.

"So he's here?" a man asked.

"He's in the library with Raine."

"And the twins?"

"They're staying with Winry tonight," Frank heard Al say.

"It was a long ride. I could use a glass of water." Damn it, Frank thought, wondering if he could dart into the study before the mountain of a man who'd been described to him made his appearance in the kitchen.

No. He couldn't.

"You!" That was all this man said before swinging to punch Frank square in the face. Frank managed to duck, get out of the road of his massive fist, but he wasn't sure how long he could avoid this man who seemed to take up half of the kitchen.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. "How long am I going to be greeted by people trying to slam my face into something?" He ducked under the kitchen table, feeling horribly cowardly while he did.

"Sig, that isn't him," Ed said, grabbing the man's massive arm. "It isn't him!" With a few quick moves and kicks that sent the large man skidding backwards, Ed managed to knock—literally—some sense into the butcher. "Would I defend him if he really was that bastard?"

Frank looked on in what could only be described as surprise. He'd never seen Edward move like that, didn't really think Edward would have even thought about it. Not only that, but the blond, even against this man that he obviously didn't want to hurt, was an impressive fighter.

"He's not the same man. He came through the Gate with Wrath. He's his friend. Think of him like the bastard's twin or something, but he's not him."

Ed signaled to Al to reach into the refrigerator to remove a pitcher of water. The butcher never took his eyes off of Frank and vice versa. Al moved to a cupboard, pulling out a large glass and began pouring, finally handing the man the water. Watching as the water was chugged in one gulp, Frank couldn't help but be intimidated by the butcher, not because he was that inexperienced in fighting an oppponent, but because as far as this man was concerned, his wife had died because of Frank's double, and a man whose lost something that important isn't as predictable, or even cautious as the average man trying to pound your face in.

"What's your name?"

"Same as the asshole's," Frank answered. "Wish it wasn't, though."

The large man looked to Ed. "They're not very much alike. Sig, I trust him enough for my kids to be around him, if that says anything for his character." As Sig nodded, it seemed to Frank it did.

"Please, Mr. Curtis," Al said, "go see Wrath. He needs someone else to talk to. He's not listening to us."

As the large man nodded and stepped from the kitchen, Frank released a relieved sigh.

0o0o0o0

Wrath laid in the bed, just letting Mustang's sister check him, working again at healing his back. Why didn't she grasp the concept that he wasn't helping it heal? Why couldn't she understand that?

He'd been useless at saving Edward, and now he couldn't even manage to die properly.

"Excuse me," a man's voice said from the doorway he was much too big for. Wrath looked over at the tall man, and saw him take pause for a moment the instant he saw the young man. "You look like her."

Wrath looked at his questioningly at first, then came to understand what he meant. He looked like his mother.

"I hurts, doesn't it?" Sig asked as he took a seat on a wooden chair that was entirely too small for him. "And you're angry, too." The man folded his hands in his lap. "I couldn't save _her_ either."

Wrath looked up at the man who might have been his father, seeing that almost ten years later, the hurt was still there, the tears hidden in that strong gaze.

"It may never stop hurting. Just not all the time."

A large hand patted at Wrath's arm. The younger man didn't remember much about Sig Curtis, but he remembered that the butcher wasn't exactly a talker, not that Wrath himself had been, or felt capable of, doing much talking since the crash. So the two sat in sympathetic silence.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich**_

Dietlinde Eckhart was furious. She'd been duped by three of her own men, and all along, the true alchemist had been building rockets. She could have crossed through the gate years ago, and the thought on her own failure infuriated her even further.

Once again, she was spending long hours in the chamber, trying to see exactly what that rocket scientist, Ulysses, had done. They'd already discovered that blood had been a key in opening the rift, but unfortunately, no one yet had the power capable of opening it even with a full sacrifice to the serpent.

She was preparing to hoist an animal up to the beast for it to feed on, noticing that once again, hearing a faint thud on the ground and looking up to see the rift was closing and yet another stack of papers had been left once again, with several books.

On the top was a letter.

_Frau Eckhart, _

_Yes, I know your name. I have included texts that should aid you in opening the Gate. Also, you need to seek out Hohenheim Elric. He may go by the name Hohenheim of Light. I have included a photograph of the man so you can easily recognize him. With all that I have included, there are sets of instructions, details to help you open the Gate. You must also understand the weapons that we do not yet have on this side, including your machines that fly. Just as we have alchemic weapons that you will, I'm certain, seek for yourself here because you do not posess them there. Your bombs, explosives, we have to some extent, but because of our alchemic prowess here, such weapons have not been explored to their fullest extent, so SHOULD you find Hohenheim and SHOULD you manage to make it through the gate, I would suggest you bring these along. _

_Sincerely, _

_Dante _

_Consider me your ally here._

Dietlinde could not help but notice the slightly condescending tone in the letter, but nonetheless, the German woman wasn't going to argue with her only ally on the other side. Yet.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

"Well, how are things there?" Roy asked from his room at the Cretan emissary's home. All these years later and the man still felt he wanted to repay the favor.

"Depressing," Ed answered from a country away.

"Wrath is still in rough shape?"

"Wrath is miserable, Sig's here and he's miserable not to mention trying to kill Frank, Frank's here, and he's spending most of his time avoiding Sig, plus, Al's staying the night and trying to intervene when he's not worrying himself to death."

"I already called the kids at Al and Winry's. Talk about a guilt trip." Roy kicked off his boots as he began upbuttoning his coat.

"You know they don't like it when either of us is away without them." Roy pulled the phone away from his ear as Ed began yelling a stream of curses, certain to deafen Roy and everyone on the side of the phone with Ed.

"What was that about?" Roy asked when the cursing stopped.

"Carlida. She was trying to sit on my lap and slid off, raking my leg with her claws."

Roy carefully hung his coat in the closet, dragging the phone and its long cord with him. "How'd she manage that through your pants?"

"Not wearing any."

The fuhrer felt his lower regions begin to awaken at those words. "Why's that?" he asked as he quickly undid the decorative flap on his pants, followed by the article of clothing beneath.

"I was getting changed when you called." Roy smiled to himself. Over nine years of marriage under his belt, and Ed still was naïve about the finer aspects of dirty talk and phone sex.

"I'm doing the same right now," Roy said, calmly, trying to remind himself that while the need remained with his nether regions, he really did need to get the white dress shirt off.

"You're stripping while you're talking?" Ed asked, his voice turning husky ever-so-slightly.

"It's been a long day, Fullmetal, what do you expect?" Roy walked the phone over to the bed, collapsing on the soft piece of furniture. "I'm done now. Down to my boxers and undershirt."

"Same here." Roy could almost see the nervous look on Ed's face, not at what they were doing, but at where to proceed next. "We're really horrible to be doing this." Well, that hadn't been what Roy had been expecting. "I mean, with Wrath downstairs, I shouldn't, and you're supposed to be thinking about the treaty."

"Well, if we're really horrible, let's at least be really horrible together," Roy said, dipping his hand beneath the boxer shorts toward the source of the bulge beneath. "Do you know for the last week I've wanted to screw you senseless, wanted you to do me and just keep alternating until we passed out from exhaustion?" Roy could hear Ed grunting on the other side. Apparently, Ed's willpower was not improving with age. "Tell me, where is your hand?"

"Where do you think Fuhrer Bastard?"

With a sigh, Roy inwardly shook his head. "Though my imagination is more than capable, Ed, humor me."

"I've got my boxers down over my hips, and I've got my left hand wrapped around myself. My right is so cold, and I'm moving it over my nipples, pretending I'm doing it to you."

"And I've got my hand wrapped around myself, wishing it was you," Roy moved his hand , pumping, knowing it wasn't going to last long, and guessing by the sounds on the other side, his husband was closer even than he was. "If I was home, I'd be straddling you right now, grabbing hold of you firmly, making you cry out before engulfing you in one swift movement, letting you hit the back of my throat, then taking it all the way in. I know how much you like that." Roy could hear a faint humming and moaning on the other end, trying to imagine Ed's mouth doing that around his member, finding himself growing closer.

"Damn it, Roy, I want you home," Ed said, half panting. Roy knew the sound in his husband's voice, knowing it was close, so he sped up his own movements, picturing himself on top of Ed, each of them doing their best to pleasure the other. "I want you home so I can damn well do what I want with you."

"And what's that?" Roy asked, barely getting those three words out without moaning at his own mind's picture.

"I want to bury myself in you. To hell with you being seme. I want to top you, I want to screw you, and I want you to damn well scream my name until you lose your voice."

Roy took his previous thoughts back; Ed knew exactly what to do with phone sex and was getting damn good at it. Those words of dominance on Ed's part were all Roy needed to hear. With a cry into the receiver, he came, soiling his boxers, but thankfully not the blankets on the emissary's guest bed. He heard Ed following him shortly after. Then, not long afterwards, there was a faint chuckling on the other end.

"I outlasted you," Ed said with a smug sound in his voice.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

_**Learning to Deal**_

That morning, Ed woke up, feeling relaxed, still a bit sated from the night before, and warm. He really didn't want to go downstairs and play nursemaid to Wrath. He knew it was selfish, that it was unfair for him to feel a bit put-out to have to help the former homunculus who'd sacrificed everything without the knowledge he would survive going through the Gate. But Ed couldn't help but share Aideen's sentiments that Wrath needed to collect himself and find a reason to go on.

Still, as Ed made his way downstairs, he realized he wasn't the first awake, hearing Al's voice from outside loudly expressing doubts about whatever it was that was going on.

The blond quickly went downstairs, grateful he'd had the foresight to take a shower last night rather than just falling asleep after his phone call to Roy as his body had insisted he do. Ed was still dressed in his pajamas as he went through the kitchen and saw Al standing on the back porch, yelling at Sig and Frank, who stood, looking as though they were ready to spar.

"Look, if you need to take out your anger at my double out on me, go ahead," Frank said. "But once we're done with this, we're done."

Sig nodded.

"What the hell's going on?" Ed asked Al.

"Frank is letting Sig use him as a punching bag."

"He isn't going to fight back."

"Probably, but do you think it's going to matter?"

"Damn it," Ed muttered. Then he yelled to the two men. "If either of you need hospitalization after this, don't expect me to take care of you."

At that, the two men went at one another, and while Sig was definitely at an advantage with size—not to mention years of living with Izumi—Frank's fighting style, something he called boxing, was obviously unfamiliar to the butcher. The two men were fighting in earnest, and each and every time one's fist made contact with the other man, there was no doubt to the Elric brothers that there was a great deal of pain involved. Sig's punches were far deadlier than Frank's but it amazed Ed how many the former spy managed to get in on Sig, as he was twice as fast in both his arms and on his feet.

When the two seemed to have gotten that out of their system, Frank looked up to Sig, grasping his ribs, where a particularly nasty strike had landed late into the fight. The blond with dark roots was breathing heavily, Sig rubbing his jaw and stomach.

"Are we done?" Frank gasped out.

"Yes," Sig said, saying nothing more.

The two walked back up to the porch, and Ed couldn't help but notice Frank was going to have a nice shiner on his left eye. Usually, in a spar, the rule was not to hit the face, "Please tell me you have ice," Frank said as he passed. "Or that you can at least make some quickly."

"Yeah, you idiot. I've got ice."

0o0o0o0

Nicholas ran with his sister to greet their giant of a grandfather when they spotted him, but grew worried when their innocent hug seemed to hurt Sig.

"What's wrong, Grandpa Sig?" he asked.

"Frank and I were sparring earlier."

"He hurt you?" Aideen asked, sounding as surprised as Nicholas knew he was.

"A little. We both got carried away."

When he glanced in the study, Nicholas spotted Frank, laying on the sofa on his side, a bag of ice on his left eye and his left side. "Looks like you got really carried away."

Nicholas watched as Aideen went into the study, looking concerned over the strange man from the other side of the Gate. He knew it wasn't Frank's fault, but Nicholas hated how much of his sister's time the older man was getting, and how serious she became when discussing the weapons and machines of that world. Still, he couldn't remember his sister being as excited as she'd been when Frank had promised to show the proper design for an instrument called a piano, which he said he felt she could learn easily enough. Nicholas was absolutely tone-deaf, like his papa and, from what he'd been told, his mother, but Aideen had a definite interest in music combined with at least the ear for it. Nicholas had seen the same interest in his daddy, but figured it was an area that there just hadn't been time for him to explore.

Nicholas saw his daddy and Uncle Al out on the back porch, working on some form of new transmutation. The boy had learned a long time ago when the brothers were bent over stacks of papers like that, it meant something had their nearly undivided attention. Rather than disturb them, he made his way to the library, glancing in to see if Wrath was asleep.

He wasn't. He was sitting in his wheelchair, looking out the window, looking lost in thought. That at least seemed a good sign. Normally, the man with the funny braided hair looked vacant in moments like these. Maybe it was having Grandpa Sig there; Nicholas had heard his fathers saying that his Grandpa Sig and Wrath were more or less father and son.

Nicholas wasn't exactly sure how to just approach the former homunculus, but remembered that there were still a few cookies left in the kitchen. He went back out to the kitchen, while Sig was in with Frank and Aideen, listening to the somewhat far-fetched stories that the blond man told. He got a glass from the drying rack, since he couldn't begin to reach the cupboard where they were kept, then got the milk from the fridge to pour into it. He grinned, thinking how much his father still hated the white liquid, while his papa constantly teased him about it. Replacing the milk bottle, he grabbed a plate and loaded it with the last remaining cookies.

Going back to Wrath's room, careful not to drop the cookies or spill the milk, Nicholas cleared his throat to let the man know he was there. The dark head turned to him, at least acknowledging his presence.

"I brought you milk and cookies," he said, setting them on the table near where Wrath sat. "I know you're still sad and hurt." He watched as Wrath looked at the cookies tentatively. "Daddy didn't make them, so they're good." Nicholas covered his mouth to see if his daddy was anywhere he could have heard him. Seeing he was in the clear, he whispered, "Daddy learned to cook a lot of stuff when Aideen and I were babies, but he still burns anything he puts _in_ the oven."

Sitting on Wrath's bed, Nicholas beamed as he saw Wrath smile, just a bit.

"I know you're still upset, but you know everyone here is worried about you, don't you? We want you to feel better. Even Aideen."

Wrath looked as though he wanted to argue, but the words still didn't come. The rest thought the older man was choosing not to talk, but Nicholas had seen the former homunculus struggle just as he was now. Nicholas realized what even the adults didn't. Wrath couldn't speak. Though it was probably that psycho-whatever-logical word that he'd heard his Auntie toss around a few times on the subject, Nicholas only knew that no matter how hard Wrath tried, the words just wouldn't come out.

"But you need to remember the good things, and remember that you at least got to know him." Nicholas bit his lip when he realized that sounded bitter. "You know that my mother died before I was born, and even though I've heard a lot of great stories about her, how much I look like her, how good a shot she was, and all that kind of stuff." The boy folded his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. "I would have liked to have known her, even for just a little while. I know that even though Papa and Daddy miss her, they still say how glad they were just to have known her and that they wouldn't trade that for anything.

"And I don't know if your boyfriend was anything like my daddy aside from how much he looked like him, but I know Daddy doesn't like seeing you like this. Would he?"

With that Nicholas left the room.

0o0o0o0

"Nicholas Maes," Ed said, loudly, using a stern tone of voice just on the lighter side of yelling for the boy.

The little blond came running out into the kitchen, looking up at his father innocently.

"Don't give me that look. You ate the last of the cookies, didn't you?"

"Why did you think it was me?" the boy asked, rather than denying the accusation.

"It wasn't?"

"Well, I took them, but—"

"Nicholas, there was six huge cookies left in the cookie jar. I'm surprised you don't have a stomach ache."

"But I—"

Before the boy could say any more, there was a noise in the hallway, Ed looking out to find Wrath, wheeling his chair through the hall, an empty plate and glass on his lap. Making it to the archway of the kitchen but no further because of the width of the chair, he held up the dishes to an astonished Ed.

"Thank you," Ed said, placing the dishes in the sink.

With warm smile despite the lingering hurt, Wrath patted Nicholas's head and signaled to the boy to get him a pen and paper. Happily doing so, Ed's son ran to the study, returning with a legal pad and pen. He handed them to the former sin, who shakily began to write.

_Do you have anything to eat?_

"Of course. What would you like?"

_Anything. I'm starving._

Ed turned to the fridge, looking for some leftover vegetable soup, glancing over his shoulder at Nicholas. "I'm sorry for blaming you for the cookies."

"Well, I _did_ take them." Nicholas looked over at the man in the chair. "I just hope _he_ doesn't get sick for eating those six cookies and drinking a big glass of milk."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 **

_**Idiot**_

It was still early when the train pulled into the main station at Central. Roy stepped off of the platform, realizing the early hour, and asked his guards to follow him to the main office in Central. Though he wanted to see his family, he knew at this hour they would still be asleep, so it made more sense to get done the few things he needed to do at the office and be done for the day to spend it with Ed and the twins.

Walking through the hallway, Roy passed by the main secretary, who looked at him in surprise.

"Fuhrer, Sir, I didn't see you go back through. Did you forget something?"

"Um, no…" Roy figured that she was simply tired, since her shift was about to end in an hour. Deciding that he hadn't gotten much in the way of exercise the last few days, Roy took the stairs up to his office. Feeling just a bit winded when he reached the top, Roy thought to himself that he would need to do a bit more exercise if he had any intention of keeping up with Ed.

He reached his floor, making his way to the door to his office. He'd just started to open the door when a young lieutenant who guarded the floor approached him. "Hello Sir," the lieutenant said, with a bit of a salute, and a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He looked even younger than Ed, particularly as he grew more and more embarrassed.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

"Are you just now home in Central, Furher Sir?"

"Yes, lieutenant. I thought I'd get my work finished and get home."

"You deserve it, um, Sir." The young man looked uncomfortable, or at the very least, nervous. "I would hate to see you overwork yourself, Fuhrer, sir." The man reached out a hand and adjusted a button on Roy's lapel. "Crooked," he said with a smile and deeply reddening cheeks. "Wouldn't want you to look less than perfect." At that, the young lieutenant saluted and left at a pace Nicholas would even admire.

Roy chuckled to himself as he opened the door further, curious to find a light on in the room. Much to his surprise and bewilderment, there was a man already at his desk with tussled black hair, eyepatch and one of Roy's uniforms. The man was looking over something on the desk, his hands in a steepled position. Roy froze, eyeing what was essentially himself, though the facial features were just a bit off, and the eye that looked up from the documents on the desk was a piercing blue.

"I suppose now that you're here," Frank said, "you'll be wanting your seat back."

"H-how?"

"I used to do this for a living, Roy." Frank smiled a bit conceitedly. "You'd be surprised what people will overlook, if the image they're presented with is realistic enough. I learned quickly how to imitate you. There are several newsreels that feature you. Thankfully, I can even imitate your voice, since you aren't exactly a tenor."

That last bit gave Roy chills with how closely it mimicked the natural inflection of his speech. Even Havoc, who had posed as Roy on a few occasions, had not managed so close an impersonation, and they had known and worked together for years.

"What are you doing in my office?" Roy couldn't fight his anger at the impertinence, the sense of violation, and the resemblance to the Archer he'd known. It was a feeling that Roy had been so sure he'd overcome getting to know Frank.

"I suspected there was something more that made you uneasy around me than just your eye." Frank stood, removing his eyepatch—inadvertently revealing a fading yellow bruise—as he pointed down to the folders laying open on Roy's desk. "And I found it."

He rubbed at the white temples, knocking out whatever substance he'd put in them, finally pushing his hair back with his hand.

Looking at an exact replica—save for some wrinkles and the bruise—of Archer as Roy remembered him, the fuhrer walked forward to his desk to better see the folders and their contents.

"Those are my and Frank Archer's personal files. They are confidential, and you have no business looking in those."

"Then arrest me. But I think I at least had the right to know that you and I—the other me—had a history."

Frank took off the coat that had been modified to fit his slightly broader and longer frame. "I started reading these to find out why I was so different from the asshole that everyone here remembers. Our childhood, the area we grew up in, our schooling, it all seemed so similar, except this Archer got to know his father."

"You didn't?"

"He died a few weeks before I was to start school. It held me back for a year and I had to work to prove that I could be moved back up with the other children my age. But even afterwards, our lives took similar paths, even if we were already different people by then. And that's when I came across the accusations he made against you. He said when you were promoted directly to the position of major, you tried to force him to have sexual relations with you to ensure his continued service in the military as well as earn the possible chance at a promotion.

"So I found your file, trying to see if this was true. You painted a different story. That of two friends who used one another for regular one night stands. You claimed that he decided to use your relationship, whatever it was you wanted to call it, against you to force you to help him to the top.

"You won, but the remark remained on your record. And I was left here to decide who I believed, you or myself."

"And who won?" Roy asked, eyeing Frank closely.

"You. Not because I think you're a great guy. You remind me a lot of the weasel I knew, but you won because you left it in here." Frank closed the two folders. "This is a definite black mark on your record, no matter how the court martial proceedings went. "And despite this, you leave that record in here."

"It happened, not the way he said it did, but why wouldn't I leave the court martial in there?"

"Because you're the fuhrer and you can alter your country's history just by editing it if you so choose. Yet you left this in here." Frank held out his wrists. "Arrest me if you need to, but I only thought it fair since you already know just about everything I can tell you about myself, but this key bit of information was left off of what you told me."

"We should have told you. That is true, but you didn't have any right to break in here."

Frank walked around the desk, removing the gloves that were near replicas of Roy's and throwing them on top of the folders. "So was I any good?"

Roy tried not to squirm at that question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we had sex almost twice a week sometimes three times for two years. I couldn't have been too bloody bad."

"No, but you were selfish," Roy blurted out. "That makes for a lousy top."

"Was I now?" Frank rubbed his finger over the button that the lieutenant had adjusted. "Good thing I'm not the same man."

At that, Roy found Frank heatedly pressing his lips to Roy's own, and before Roy knew it, the older man had spun him, ripped off his gloves, pulled out a knife and held it to his throat. "Let me go!"

"You just don't get it now, do you?" Frank whispered in his ear as Roy struggled against him. "I am not even an alchemist and all I had on me was a knife, but you let your defenses down, just like you always do when you think someone is flirting with you." Roy felt the blade of the knife against his neck, though it never broke the skin, while Frank's grip on his arms grew tighter. He was not only a bit stronger than Roy, but he had his arms bent back in a position that wouldn't allow them to move without possibly driving the blade into his skin. "I could have my way with you right now, show you who's selfish. I could also kill you. I could find a way to blackmail you, or show how easily you let me kiss you to Ed. But I don't want to hurt him. I don't even want to hurt you, but from the observations I've made watching you on those reels and the stories I've heard, I want to know why you continue to let perfect strangers come up to you, flirt with you, even kiss you. You're supposed to be the fuhrer, someone who understands the military and leads the country with the attitude that he should expect anything.

"You're just damned lucky no one tried this before."

"Get off me, now!"

"Not until I've made my point." The blade pressed deeper. "Maybe your Ed doesn't need protected like Edward did, but did you know there were three people this week alone who claimed to be having your child? One of them was a man and claimed that you had super sperm, or something like that. Another, Ed didn't know. But the third woman, Ed had seen kiss you in public. There were even images of the two of you, her lips against yours, your arms thrown up in the air. Now Ed might not be fragile like Edward was, but you weren't there to see the look on his face.

"And let's just top it off with the fact that when someone starts flirting with you like that little lieutenant in the hallway, your guard drops and allows people to do what I'm doing right now. They could kill you in front of Ed, even your children. They could use you any way they want, just because you have a weakness for flattery. You need to realize that."

Then, with a smirk in his voice that Roy couldn't see, Frank added, "You also need to recognize the back of a knife when it's against your throat."

Realizing that his life wasn't in danger, and that Frank was even daring to mock him, Roy pulled away and punched him directly on the bruise that had started to fade at his eye. "Hit me all you want, fuhrer, but the fact is that I'm right."

Roy stood, fists clenched, chest heaving in anger. "You son of a bitch." Roy didn't know what he was more furious about, the fact that Frank had done what he did, that Roy had allowed it to happen, or that Frank was right.

0o0o0

Ed was blissfully unaware any of this had gone on as he slept, sprawled out in the double bed as he had every day he didn't need to share it.

"Ed, move," Ed thought he heard. "Ed, can I at least have some of my half of the bed?"

A single gold eye opened, and seeing the dark-haired man standing over him, still wearing a white dress shirt and boxer shorts, Ed grabbed hold of the shirt and tugged Roy into the bed.

Humming a bit in his half-asleep state, Ed looked at Roy. "You're home."

"Yes, and I stopped off at the office, so you have me for the entire day."

Arms and legs snaking out to latch onto Roy, he held onto him in a total body embrace, tucking his head underneath the older man's chin.

"You're so much more affectionate when you're nearly unconscious," Roy teased as he returned Ed's hold, kissing the top of the braided blond hair. "I love you."

"'ve you too," Ed mumbled, really wishing his husband-slash-pillow would be quiet and let him go back to sleep. He could feel that Roy wasn't entirely relaxing, and it was bothering his sleep, so Ed looked up at Roy, annoyed. "What?"

"I'm an idiot."

Ed pulled back, thoroughly awake. He didn't like when conversations started with Roy accusing _himself_ of being an idiot. "Why, aside from the usual?"

"Frank kissed me."

"What!" Ed pulled completely away, bolting upright and looking down at his husband. "I'll kill him."

"He did it to prove a point, and he proved it well." Roy reached up to brush aside Ed's bangs. "I let people flirt with me too easily. I encourage it even, and I leave myself open for attacks of all kinds. And I hurt you."

"I've been telling you that for years."

"That's why I'm an idiot."

"Did he do anything else?"

"Aside from immobilize me and hold a knife to my neck to prove just what kinds of attacks I could face, no." Ed trailed his hand down to Roy's pale neck. "He used the back of the blade. It was only to make his point more clear."

"So he didn't try anything…" Ed couldn't help but think back to Roy's thirtieth birthday, which would have been ten years ago in another three weeks. He remembered the other Archer kissing Roy, announcing to him now that they were equals in rank, that perhaps they could resume where they'd left off after the academy.

"Nothing. Said I look too much like the weasel he knew." Roy smiled up at him, and Ed thought back to what that kiss had brought on, Roy stepping over the picnic table bench on the front porch to stand in front of Ed, who had been cradling the cat. The poor thing had nearly been crushed as the two of them sought to wipe all memory of Frank Archer from Roy's mind with a kiss that had left Ed more than a bit weak-kneed.

Ed leaned down and kissed Roy, drawing the slightly dry bottom lip into his mouth and lightly teasing it with his teeth. Releasing the lip, he all but forced his tongue into the mouth of the man below him, feeling Roy's smooth hands running along his left arm. Ed broke off the kiss and looked down at Roy.

"Trying to mark your territory?" Roy teased.

"Damned right," Ed leaned down once again, moving to kiss every inch of what was his, mouth, face, neck. Every part of it was his, and he was grateful that Roy had finally realized it.

"You know," Roy said as Ed unbuttoned the white dress shirt. "I think I'm going to have to enlist Frank into our military. Anyone who can so easily disarm me, I want on my side."

Ed nodded, as he looked slightly put off at the undershirt beneath the dress shirt. Slowly he pushed the offending item up to expose the still-toned stomach beneath. He wanted those last words to be the last coherent thought Roy had for a few hours, and with that thought in mind, he expertly dipped his tongue inside the fuhrer's naval.

Unfortunately for Ed, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall outside their door. Hearing them, he pushed Roy's shirt back down and waited for the assault.

The door swung open and the twins came bursting through the doorway, running to the bed and jumping on top of their father. "Papa!" Aideen said, not realizing her elbow was painfully pushing into Roy's stomach. "You're home!"

"Is the war over?" Nicholas asked as he hugged onto Roy.

"Completely over. We signed a treaty, an agreement that we're not going to fight any more."

"So you're going to be home for a while?" Aideen asked.

"Of course, sweetheart."

With that, the twins nuzzled up beside him, Ed laying on his back, reaching his right arm over Nicholas's head to curl the mechanical fingers into Roy's dark hair.

"Ah, the joys of parenthood," Ed muttered.

"What, Daddy?" Nicholas asked.

"Not a thing," Ed said. "Not a thing."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 **

_**Dead man walking**_

When Kain Fuery heard the pounding on the main door of his apartment, he immediately got out of his bed, putting on his glasses. He ran to his door, opening it as far as the chain lock would allow.

"Frank?" he asked, his voice still raspy from a night without use. He had to admit he was a bit surprised to see Frank was now a brunette.

"Kain, can I come in?"

Kain opened the door, letting a somewhat nervous and familiar looking Frank into his apartment. "I'm a dead man," Frank said as he entered, taking a seat at Kain's small table.

"Why are you a dead man?" Kain said, running a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down as he saw its reflection in the tiny mirror near the door. He moved to the sink to fill his coffee pot.

"Well, first I impersonated Roy and broke into the office."

"What? Frank, you can be arrested for that."

"I know. I wanted to know why Roy was so awkward around me." Frank folded his arms and put his head on them.

"You shot his eye out…" Kain said, turning back to the stove to turn the stovetop on. "Well, the other you."

"Not that. I knew there was some… tension that had nothing to do with the eye. And I saw the court-martial papers in my… his… oh whatever the hell you want to call the bastard, in Archer's file."

Kain turned around, looking at the dark-headed man at his kitchen table. He knew what the court-martial was he was talking about.

"I figured that since that sodding file was more or less mine, I had every right to open it and read its contents, but when I read the statements that the bastard wrote, they didn't seem right. I needed to know the truth. I needed to know if I really was the bastard in this world or if it was Roy. I just, I didn't lead so different a life from the Archer of this world. Do you know how hard it is to accept that he was the monster he was? When I read and saw that the Roy described in Archer's documents sounded like the one from my world, there was a moment of doubt. The Roy I knew, especially toward the end, would have done exactly what I'd read in Archer's statement."

"What did you do?" Kain said, looking at Frank, eyes wider than even usual.

"I got into Roy's file. I read his statement. It certainly meshed up more with the Archer everyone here has described, and honestly as fuhrer, Roy could have taken the entire court martial out, but he hadn't. It said more for his character than the lies in the other me's folder. I realized that Archer really was the asshole."

"That doesn't mean you are anything like him."

Frank turned his head, looking at Kain through a slightly swollen eye. "There's more."

"You need ice for that?"

Frank nodded.

"What more is there?" Kain pulled out the ice tray from the freezer.

"I kissed Roy."

With a loud crash, Kain dropped the ice tray on the floor, the frozen cubes popping out and scattering across the floor.

0o0o0o0

Roy felt the bed shift slightly. Looking to see Aideen was still beside him, on her side, back facing her fathers, Nicholas who was stretched out, legs over Roy's at the bottom of the bed, Roy realized Ed was gone. In the dim light, the older man saw the bathroom door shut, hearing it latch ever so quietly. Gently freeing himself from Nicholas's legs all the while trying not to disturb Aideen, Roy climbed out of the bed and nearly silently made his way to the bathroom door, hearing the sound of the shower starting. He lightly rapped on the door.

"Are you decent?"

"Yeah, Roy, come on in."

Entering their bathroom, Roy saw Ed standing in only his blue and white boxers and the silver chain and flamel Roy had made for him on their first date. The fire alchemist couldn't help but stare at the body of the man before him. At twenty-six, it was little surprise that by now all signs of the teenager Ed had once been were gone, despite the fact that his frame had remained small in comparison to Roy's. Shoulders, chest, abs, all were perfectly sculpted, perfectly adult, holding the threat of a strength that was tightly wound into the small body. The scars on that body had become Roy's close friends as had each nut and bolt of the automail, and he was quite certain he could close his eyes and perfectly draw each and every one of them. For him, those painful reminders of what the younger man had been though were part of him, part of what had made him who he was today.

Ed had just removed his hairband and was brushing out the blond hair that, left loose, came down below his shoulder blades. A set of citrine eyes looked up, the automail hand stopping its movements in the golden locks. "What?"

Roy smiled, moving his hand to the necklace around Ed's neck. "You still wear this thing?"

"Yeah. Honestly, I'm surprised I still have it. I've never managed to own anything this long without breaking it." Ed lowered his hands from his hair. "In two weeks, I'll have had that thing ten years."

Roy looked at the scratched and dull flamel on the end. "I could fix it for you if you want."

"So could I, dummy. But that kind of ruins the point of having it all this time, dontcha think."

"I suppose it does." Turns out Ed was a romantic. Ten years and he was still learning about the blond. "I still remember when you handed it to me. I wanted to make a smartass remark about it, or you, but I couldn't. It was one of the few times you weren't a bastard colonel."

"Excuse me?" Roy said, trying to sound offended.

"You're not anymore," Ed said, slipping off his boxers. He stepped in the shower, right foot first, hand on the rail they'd installed after his metal leg made him slip on the slick porcelain for the fourth time. Looking over his shoulder under a curtain of damp hair, he smirked. "You're a bastard fuhrer."

Roy began slipping out of his wrinkled dress shirt, tight white undershirt and grey boxers, hardly able to hide how turned on he was by the naked, and wet, form of his husband standing beneath the pounding water of the shower.

"At least this is one place we know the kids won't interrupt us," Roy said, removing the patch before stepping in behind Ed and closing the curtain around them.

"You know, I came in here for a real shower," Ed said.

"Well, then let me help you." Roy took Ed by his shoulders, slowly guiding him back under the falling water. He slid his hands up the younger man's arms, moving up the neck and eventually into the long blond hair. He bent down, pressing his lips to Ed's, gently nibbling on the thin bottom lip offered him as his hands worked to saturate Ed's hair. His fingers scratched at Ed's scalp, one of the more sensitive places on the blond's body, one almost guaranteed to earn a purr for his efforts.

Pulling away, Roy moved to grab the shampoo bottle, pouring out just enough to rub into Ed's scalp and down the wet hair. Satisfied he'd gotten up enough of a lather, the brunette guided his husband back under the water, cupping his hands and guiding the sudsy rinse away from the gold eyes that were closed in a relaxed state of bliss.

He once again leaned in, kissing the blond, mouths open, tongues mingling, water running between them, around them, wet arms wrapped around equally wet and slippery bodies.

Roy found himself being turned, and he watched as Ed broke the kiss, returning the favor as he lathered up the shorter black hair, moving his hands in almost circular motions over Roy's head. The older man knew it was Ed's way of keeping it balanced between the soft, more sensual feeling of the flesh hand and the harder, yet gentle scratching of the metal.

Roy leaned back into the water, moving back out again to feel of Ed's left hand brushing his dark hair from his eyes and forehead.

Roy had hardly noticed as Ed grabbed the bar of soap and began moving it over his shoulders, over his chest, turning him to get his back. He felt the slippery touch following the curve of his behind, lingering just a bit longer, rubbing over each cheek, then proceeding down to the thighs and calves. Ed turned him back around, purposely avoiding the area Roy wanted touched most as he lathered the soap over the mostly firm stomach, sensitive inner thighs.

Then, with a few miserably short movement, Ed cleaned Roy's much too hard member.

Having had enough of Ed's teasing, Roy rinsed himself off and grabbed the soap, swapping positions with his husband, first kissing before washing over the man's neck, shoulders and chest that still bore the silver necklace, moving down to Ed's right nipple, licking it, feeling it grow to a hardened nub and hearing the raspy moans that Ed was trying desperately to hold inside. He moved to the other side, doing the same. He provided the same care to the rest of Ed's body, lingering even longer than Ed had when he reached the blond's firm backside, unable to resist the urge to tease the top of the crease between the cheeks, even dipping his tongue inside, just enough to hear Ed release yet another groan of pleasure he was trying to stifle for the sake of the sleeping children in the next room.

But, Roy had promised to help Ed get clean, he reminded himself, so he turned Ed's body, lathering over Ed's legs and over the blond curls and stiff organ below the steel-like abs.

Roy began rinsing off the last of the soap, prepared to make Ed need yet another shower in just another moment. At that, there was a faint sound of a toilet flushing somewhere, and the two men quickly recovered from their lust as they huddled in the space under the showerhead, Roy getting hit with the first sprays of the scalding hot water and crying out as he did.

"I thought you liked fire and heat," Ed said.

"Not when it means getting cooked like a lobster," Roy said, as he and Ed clung to one another trying unsuccessfully to get around legs and arms to get the water turned off without letting it dribble down onto their prone bodies beneath.

Then, as the heat from the water faded enough that they felt it was safe, Ed started to laugh, still clinging to Roy, and put out as the older man was, even he couldn't be upset as he felt Ed's laughter shaking both their bodies, infectiously spreading.

"So much for… them not interrupting," Ed said as he continued to laugh. "You should have seen yourself."

"Me? What about you?"

At that moment, all thought of previous activities and what they might lead to faded as the two leaned against the tile walls, Ed head against Roy's chest, Roy's pressed against the porcelain and grout, laughing at themselves, echoing through the master bathroom, arms around one another.

0o0o0o0

"You… what?" Fuery said, kneeling to the floor to pick up the ice.

Frank let his head thump down on the table. "Ow." Then he groaned to himself. "I kissed him."

Fuery held out his pajama shirt, about to put a loose ice cube in the makeshift pouch he'd created. "W-why would you do that?"

"To prove a point." Frank let his head thump against the table again.

"And what point was there in that, especially after having read files you had no business in?"

"He'll kill me." He felt something cold at the back of his neck, realizing Fuery was handing him some ice in a towel.

"Please promise me that you're not going to slam your head against my table again. I'd hate to see it broken." Frank took the ice and pressed it to his left eye. "Now what point?"

"When someone close to me is hurt or in trouble, I don't always think before I do things. And I know I hardly know Ed, but he reminds me so much of Edward, and Edward wasn't one to deal with conflict head-on…" Fuery sat in the chair opposite Frank. "I saw how upset he got when that story came out about the fuhrer. Then, when I was at the office, I saw some lieutenant flirting with him, and he didn't stop it…" Once again he groaned. "Instincts kicked in, even if my brain didn't, and my temper, just… well snapped."

"What did you do to the fuhrer?" Fuery said, standing as though preparing to strike the man.

"I kissed him, removed his gloves, restrained him, and held the back of a knife to his neck to show how easy it would be for someone who really wanted to hurt him. Then I released him."

"How did you get away?" The younger man obviously thought Frank had escaped from certain arrest.

"He told me to go. I think he realized what I tried to do."

"So then why do you think you're a dead man?"

"I kissed Ed's husband before holding a knife, admittedly the back of it, to said husband's throat, defending Ed's honor like he was defenseless." Frank looked up at the closest thing to a friend he'd found in this world. "It's him I'm afraid of."

"You need to be," Fuery said, turning back to the percolating coffee pot on the stovetop.

0o0o0o0

Wrath braced himself between the two bars Ed had created in the library, the taller Elric brother behind him, the shorter in front, all the while Raine Mustang watching every move he made. Raine said she was shocked with the improvements he'd made in his recovery once he'd made the decision that he actually wanted to get better. It seemed that maybe some part of being a homunculus had remained, as he should have been just barely regaining the feeling in his legs, not trying to walk between a set of rails, with only minimal help from the two Elrics. "It amazes me how quickly you are improving," Raine said.

"Please, stubborn guy managed to go through the Gate and come out human," Ed said, not without some semblance of pride in the younger man, "but still hold onto my limbs that let him do alchemy. I think he'll heal himself just fine."

Wrath's steps were uncertain, a bit of numbness mixed with pain with each one he took. As he stumbled, Ed braced him in the front with those mismatched arms of his, Al grabbing him in the back.

"Okay, that's enough for today," Raine said.

With the help of the two brothers, Wrath made his way back to his bed. The last two days he'd done this, Stephen, or Frank as the rest called him, had helped him back along with Al. And nothing short of putting his massive hand on Ed's head managed to give him a height where he could comfortably brace his own weight, not that Ed would ever let him use the blond head as a support. Even more awkwardly than usual, Wrath sat back in his bed, his entire body exhausted from the short attempt to walk.

It wasn't long after that the phone rang. Ed picked up the receiver kept by Wrath's bed. "Hello?"

"Ed," Wrath heard on the other line.

"Yeah, Cain, what is it?"

"I wanted you to know that I have Frank here."

"I figured. I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to come here right away."

"He thinks you're going to try to kill him."

"He kissed my husband and threatened him with a knife. Why the hell wouldn't I?"

Though Ed's voice sounded stern, Wrath couldn't help but notice he was grinning. He was enjoying tormenting Steph—Frank. Wrath couldn't blame him, after what Ed had told him Frank had done earlier that morning. For some of the ones who didn't know Frank like he did, and Ed and Roy were coming to know him, it rang true to the Archer bastard who'd belonged to this world. But as Wrath had pulled the memories of the two men apart, he knew better. This man wasn't that Archer.

"Ed, he didn't think. He was trying to protect you."

"And who the hell said I needed protecting?" Ed rolled his eyes. "Put him on. I'm going to go out to another phone so Wrath doesn't need to hear me rant for the next hour."

Ed left, Wrath holding the receiver to his ear to hear that Ed had gotten another line.

"Hello?" Frank's nervous voice said on the other line.

"Where the hell do you get off?"

With that, Wrath hung up the phone, looking over at Al with a smile.

"That Frank," Raine said, "I swear if I see him, I'll kill him."

_He's like that_ Wrath wrote on the notebook, then pointed to it. _He used to be like that with Edward and I. I remember one time, he threatened this guy, Officer Hughes who…_

"Hughes?" Al asked before Wrath got to write any more. "Maes Hughes?"

_Yeah, he was a police officer, more or less. Didn't like that Edward and I were together. Bigoted bastard._

"Careful saying that in front of Roy," Raine said. "The Maes Hughes of this world was a good man, and Roy's best friend."

_Dead too, I'm guessing._ Wrath looked at the written words, realizing they seemed insensitive without the tone and delivery of speech.

"He died a few months before we first met you," Al said, somberly. "Anyway, what did he do?"

_Hughes threatened to report us to the authorities, or to people who would almost certainly kill Edward and I for being gay._ Wrath was surprised that it was getting slightly easier to write Edward's name than it had been a few days before. _In turn, Ste, Frank grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. He threatened him and everything he had. Like I said, he's like this. At least when he cares about someone. Says something for what he thinks of Ed._

"Still, I can't believe after all that, my idiot brother wants to enlist Frank in the military. Why the hell would he do that?"

For the better part of an hour, Ed had yelled over the phone at Frank for treating him "like a defenseless girl" and thinking he couldn't handle his own husband. He had threatened him to never pull another knife on Roy or dare even think of kissing him again or he'd shove the metal spike he created from his automail down his throat and cut off parts he was certainly attached to.

Returning into the library, Ed grinned at Wrath and his brother, Raine standing in the corner, gathering some of the medical items she'd brought with her.

"That was fun," Ed said with a smirk.

"Don't you think it was a bit harsh, Brother?"

"Not at all. I seriously doubt he'll try it again." Ed clapped his hands and made the bars for Wrath's therapy disappear again into the floor. "I think he has a healthy respect for Roy and I, but now, there's a bit of fear and that's always a healthy thing."

Wrath shook his head, wondering if, after all of that, Frank would even consider joining up with the Amestris army, realizing almost immediately that, knowing the older man, he probably would because of it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 **

_**Celebrations **_

_**Three Weeks Later**_

Frank tugged at the blue wool sleeves. He hated this habit of his, one he'd had since childhood. He stood, looking into the mirror, grabbing the flap that now covered his legs and behind. "I still think this is ridiculous."

Wrath put his arm around Frank's shoulder, patting him on the back before grabbing the notebook in his front pocket to write, _If you were an alchemist like me, you'd get to wear what you want._

"So you're really going to go through with it?"

_I just hope I can be useful at something._ He gestured with the cane he still carried.

"Well, I'm going to take a guess that they aren't going to have you barking orders anytime soon," Frank joked, having learned that Wrath didn't mind the occasional bit of teasing at the loss of his voice.

_I'd guess not. Raine still wants me to see someone to "talk" about why I lost the thing._ Wrath rolled his eyes.

"She just wants to see you get your voice back. She's only trying to be caring with you. It's me she wants to boil in hot oil."

"I doubt she will easily forgive you for what you did to her brother," Kain said. Frank nodded, looking over at his soon-to-be commanding officer and current roommate.

"It's been weeks now." Frank slipped on the trademark white gloves of the military uniform, finding himself once again tugging at his sleeves.

"You will be fine," Kain said, apparently noticing the nervous habit. Frank grinned sheepishly at Kain's reflection in the mirror as he ran a small comb through the slicked-down hair.

Frank couldn't help it. He had preferred the original plan, to have him introduced as Stephen Archer, twin brother to Frank. It would have meant starting out as a private, but Frank knew he was capable of rising through the ranks enough to at least see a little action. Unfortunately, there were two major flaws: the first being that no one was admitted fresh into the military over the age of forty, and Frank was forty-two, the second that the Frank Archer's parents were both very much alive and knew they only had one son.

So instead, Frank was going to have to don the persona of a man that by all rights should have been dead, not that anyone mourned that loss. Frank had been re-learning answering to his name after years of responding to Stephen, with part of him hoping that he wouldn't have to continue, not wanting the association with that bastard to remain. Now, he was once again Frank Archer, but one with a very different history.

The "official" story was that Frank Archer, one year after being made a major had begun doing research for the military. Taking advantage of the public disappearance of the "original" Archer, an "imposter" took over. It was the "imposter" who had taken over as head of military intelligence, led troops into Lior, and become the half automail machine that shot Roy. According to the "true" story, Frank had resurfaced, having completed his research, only to find his life had essentially been stolen by the imposter, and was seeking to be re-instated.

This meant that Frank was now taking over this world's Archer's life, blaming everything on this supposed "imposter." It meant that the most atrocious crimes would not be counted against him, but Frank was going to still have to pretend to be the man that had falsely accused Roy over twenty years before. It was humiliating to have to assume that man's identity, to know that even if the military didn't blame him for the events that followed Maes Hughes's death, they certainly would hate him for falsely accusing their fuhrer.

A dark head poked through the door. "Are you ready Mr. Archer? I mean, Major Archer? Wrath?"

"I think so Aideen." Frank smiled at the little girl. Wrath was nodding beside him.

"Good, because Papa's already giving the speech to explain the two of you." With a mischievous grin worthy of her blond father, she darted back out of the room.

Frank put an arm around Wrath. "Well let's go so you can be greeted with open arms and I can be carried out on a rail."

The two men walked up, with Kain leading them, to the center of the city, where Roy was already standing on a platform, speaking to the people. There were some boos, Frank assumed for him, and he felt Kain grab his arm, squeezing it lightly to show that at least he was not going to have to face the crowd alone. It was reassuring to say the least, though the man with the black-rimmed glasses didn't seem like the type to intimidate a crowd of people.

"I understand your mistrust of him better than anyone," Roy said to the crowd. "But this man is not at all the Frank Archer we all thought we knew during the Lior campaign, and years of experience has improved him even from when I knew him at the academy."

Frank watched as Aideen seemed torn between returning to Ed, who stood at the front of a crowd of Roy's most trusted soldiers on the platform behind him and going to Frank. She finally made her choice, turning back to Frank and grabbing his hand, pulling him up onto the stage-like area. With a broad grin, she faced the crowd, obviously an old hat at dealing with the public and media.

"I wish to introduce the newly reinstated Major Frank Archer," Roy bellowed into the microphone in front of him. As though to doubly emphasize that Frank could be trusted, Aideen threw her arms around him. While Frank's military training told him that this was horribly unprofessional, he returned the hug all the same, patting the little girl on her head of braided hair. There were audible whispers and even gasps from the crowd. Aideen smilied up at him, disappearing to Wrath's side. "Major Archer will serve under Lieutenant Colonel Fuery."

Kain stood beside Frank, more a symbolic gesture than anything. Aideen returned to the platform with Wrath in tow, pulling him to the stage and lightly embracing him with a pat to the arm before turning, her braid swinging behind her as she moved to stand by her brother's side.

"And I wish to introduce the newest State Alchemist Ulysses Curtis." When Wrath chose to use his Earth name, it hadn't surprised frank too much, but the choice of the name Curtis had. Apparently, Sig saw enough of himself and his late wife in the young man that he'd told Wrath to consider him his father. "He will be known as the Wrath Alchemist and will serve under Brigadier General Havoc."

Together, the two men were sworn in as official dogs of the military, Wrath having to nod to affirm his answer to each question asked of him.

0o0o0o0

It had been a long night, with celebrations and the induction ceremony, and Roy had been asleep now just over an hour. Wrath had returned home shortly after Ed and Roy, apparently after "talking" to the Tringham brothers, who had both approached Roy about setting up a time to meet and discuss a new assignment, as the two state alchemists had completed their work in the east with Ishbal. When Roy left the restaurant with Ed and the kids, Fuery, Breda, and Frank had all been at the bar, continuing to drink themselves into a stupor, save for Fuery, who could still hold his alcohol better than anyone the fuhrer had ever met.

Honestly, at that moment, Roy was rather enjoying a deep and restful sleep when he felt a heavy weight on his stomach. He tried to roll over to remove the weight, but found himself restrained on the bed.

"Roy," a gravelly voice said. Barely registering what was happening, he kept his eyes closed, feeling warm lips on his cheek, feeling long, sleek hair tickling his neck. "Roy, it's midnight."

"Then why're you waking me up?"

"It's officially your birthday."

"Then wake me up in a week."

"Oh, are we going to pout now that we're forty?"

"We have every right to." Roy looked at Ed, who was resting his weight on hands on either side of Roy's head, loose blond hair hanging down over his left side. Ed looked almost angelic in the white glow of the nearly full moon from the window behind him. "Why do you want an old man like me?"

"Am I going to need to go over this every time you have a milestone birthday? I love you, you idiot, and everything about you, regardless." Ed leaned back, running his hands through white temples. "The country and your service to it is to blame for this. I don't care about gray hairs. They only remind me how devoted you are to the people and how quickly that service to Amestris made you grow up." He kissed Roy's forehead twice. "Those two faint worry lines practically scream to be blamed on Nicholas and Aideen." Roy furrowed his brows, Ed pointing to a tiny crease between them. "That one is mine." Ed looked so proud, so happy, that Roy couldn't help but smile, feeling two thumbs, one metal, one flesh rubbing the corners of his eyes, almost massaging over the slight crinkling of skin at the edges of his eyes that showed most prominently when he smiled. "These are my favorite."

Ed leaned down and kissed Roy on the lips, then pulled back, putting something on his hand and snapping.

A tiny spark spread to a multitude of tiny flames erupting around the room, heating up certain reactions from the older man as well. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are doing fire alchemy?"

"And I don't even do it that often. Imagine how I feel when I see you." Ed pulled Roy's glove off of his fingers with his teeth, then tossed it aside.

Roy looked around him at the numerous candles around the room. "Please tell me there aren't forty candles here."

"Of course not. I enjoy having my house intact and not set ablaze." Ed shifted something on the bedside table, moving three little pinpricks of light with it. "Happy birthday, Roy."

Ed moved back on Roy's legs, allowing him to lean forward to blow out the candles, only half-noticing that Ed was fooling with something behind him. The candles out, Roy watched as Ed leaned forward, kissing Roy on his lips before removing the candles and pulling out a pastry bag filled with what looked like a kind of whipped cream. Ed squeezed a bit of the white stuff onto the chocolate cupcake. "You can eat that. I didn't bake it."

Roy took a dollop of the icing onto his finger, sucking it into his mouth. "Damn, Roy." Ed slowly began pushing up Roy's white tank top, slithering down the older man's legs until his head was flush with Roy's crotch, the heat from the blond's breath causing Roy to fully tent his pajama pants. Roy felt as fingers curled under the waistband, slowly pulling the pants over Roy's hips. Barely remembering to take his finger out of his own mouth, the older man anticipated Ed's actions, only to find himself pleasantly surprised as the pastry back reappeared and was squeezed in a line from Roy's naval down over Roy's member.

Ed licked away the upper part of the icing, dipping his tongue into Roy's bellybutton, then following the trail down to Roy's hardened length. "Better eat your dessert." Ed darted out his tongue and ran it up the bottom. "I'm working on mine." The blond's tongue made circular patterns around the base, moving toward the sensitive tip, and finishing it off by surrounding the rounded head with his mouth. Roy could barely control himself as his toes began to curl against the bedding, hands twisting the sheets in his fists. Ed moved his head down, bobbing at a speed that was enough to evoke moans out of the fuhrer, but much too slow to suit him.

"Oh, Ed!" he cried out as Ed managed to take his entire length into his mouth, Roy feeling the tight constriction around his member as it slipped into Ed's throat. He couldn't believe how much the young man was improving at this, nor how grateful he was for it. Then, as Roy was nearing the point of completion, Ed moved his hand, sliding his body up Roy's and nuzzling his neck, allowing their bare hips to rub suggestively against one another.

Roy looked down, surprised that Ed had been naked all along without his noticing. "Now, Roy, let's see if you can manage to tire me out tonight. Prove you aren't wearing out with age."

Again, Ed rubbed against him, this time encircled both of their members with his left hand, grinding his hips against Roy's. The older man grabbed hold of Ed's waist, rolling the younger man over and positioning himself between Ed's thighs. "I think I prefer this tonight." Roy nipped at Ed's neck, biting at the flesh until he was sure he'd leave a suitable mark. "I want to watch you."

Roy slipped a hand between Ed's legs, brushing over the aching member, watching with a smirk as Ed's hips bucked upwards of their own volition. Finding his way to the smaller man's opening, Roy was surprised to find the slickness of oil around it.

"What's taking you so long?" Ed asked with a smirk. "I'm ready when you are."

Tightly grabbing hold of Ed's legs, Roy pulled Ed's body onto his lap, positioning himself at his husband's opening before pushing into Ed's waiting body. He moved slowly, but only for a moment as he slid deeply into Ed's heat. Roy helped as the mismatched feet moved up to the older man's shoulders, ankles linking themselves behind Roy's head. This usually took more time, but Ed seemed desperate for Roy to go deeper. More than willingly, Roy complied before pulling out and slamming back in.

"Call me an old man," Roy grunted out at Ed, as the rhythm became almost fierce, and Ed was forced to grab hold of his own member and pump in time with Roy's movements, as both of the older man's hands were occupied in grabbing tightly to the blond's hips, almost certainly leaving thumb-sized bruises.

At first, all that left Ed's lips were a series of needy whimpers, then they grew into pants until all Ed could yell were either curses or Roy's name. "Shit, Roy. Damn it. Shit. Harder."

"Ed… close…" Roy panted. "Are you…" Before he could hear an answer, he heard Ed shout.

"Rooooy!"

Roy could feel the walls of Ed's body clenching around him, feeling as Ed was pulling him into ecstasy. Desperately slamming into that tightness and watching as he moved inside of Ed's accommodating and twitching body, Roy heard only the sound of Ed's sustained cry and their flesh smacking together. His own climax came as he released inside of Ed's young body, finding some of the white substance seeping out along his cock. He looked down at the blond and seeing that he did seem to have worn his husband out.

Allowing the boneless afterglow to capture him, Roy kissed Ed's head before withdrawing and pressing his lips to the sweaty forehead.

0o0o0o0

_**London**_

"Why are you so kind to me?" Noa asked Hohenheim as they rode on a train to Scotland, where the older man hoped they would be safe.

"Because my friends asked me to be, and because it isn't fair that you be treated the way you are just because you have a 'gift.'" Hohenheim was honestly surprised to hear the young woman speak. She had done so very rarely in the time they'd been traveling together, almost making the alchemist wonder if she could speak at all.

"You think I'm lying about my ability." She lowered her eyes. "I would never lie about something that has only caused me pain."

"You're right," Hohenheim said, folding his hands on his lap. "I do not believe you could possibly have such a talent. I don't believe it exists."

"But alchemy, that is believable?" The young woman folded her arms across her chest. "Or the fact that someone can live hundreds of years if they accept a half existence, or that a teenage boy can be a father to twins and be the one carrying them?"

Hohenheim's face was deadpan, and he looked around to see that they were nearly alone in the train car, and late as it was, quiet as she was speaking, no one could have heard her.

"You doubt my gift, but you have been careful not to touch me without gloves on until last night when you caught me from falling off of this train. Since then, I've been trying to decipher what I saw in your head." Noa sighed. "You want to see your family again, but you don't want to risk their lives by opening the Gate. You're torn by it and by the fact that the son you created is being used as a key to open it." She smiled for the first time since they'd met. "Perhaps there is another way."

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed had waited until Roy had drifted to sleep before pulling himself from the bed to get dressed and hopefully get Roy dressed as well. While it was true that tonight, Ed had managed to lock the doors, and soundproof the room, tomorrow was definitely Roy's birthday, and the twins would undoubtedly be coming in the moment they woke up. Ed got himself cleaned off and put on a pair of pajamas, putting some clothes on his husband as well. Then, he unlocked the door and removed the soundproofing. Returning to the bed, he alchemically cleaned the sheets—he was grateful he'd finally figured out how to break down the chemical components of the mess they'd made into a powder that was easily brushed off of the bed. Finally, feeling the room no longer reeked and was safe for the twins to come into in a few hours, Ed relaxed back into bed, ready to get some well-earned sleep himself.

The blond crawled beneath the sheets pressing his body to Roy's back, throwing his right arm over the bare-chested man.

No sooner had his metal arm made contact with Roy's skin, than Roy flipped over, hands immediately wrapping themselves tightly around Ed's throat. For a split second, Ed found himself stunned, not that this had been the first time that a night terror had taken over Roy's better judgement—and considering the recent battles, Ed had been expecting this far sooner—but never had it followed sex, and usually, it began with Roy futilely snapping his ungloved fingers, giving Ed enough warning to restrain the man before it went any further.

Ed struggled against the larger man, his hands clawing at Roy's, his lungs struggling to draw air, but finally used his own strength and heavier weight to throw his husband back on the bed. Ed straddled Roy's chest, gasping for air. Quickly as he could, he transformed the bedding into a series of restraints as Roy began to yell out, fingers snapping, demanding the Isballans and Rockbells seeking vengeance on him release him, seemingly unable to remove himself from his nightmare. Roy's yelling was causing enough of a ruckus that Black Hayate was now barking outside of the door, and there was the distinctive sound of footsteps, some light, some heavy.

The door swung open, the twins, Wrath, and the dog running in.

"Nightmare," Ed croaked out, wondering if his voice would return enough for the ball being thrown in honor of Roy's birthday, let alone soon enough for him to convince Roy that the unconscious attack had been nothing at all. He leaned down and kissed Roy's face, tapping his cheek with his hand, unable to get his husband to wake up.

Wrath, using his cane, turned on the ceiling light, making his way over to the thrashing fuhrer.

"Papa," Nicholas said, climbing onto the bed beside Ed, Aideen sliding her way between the bed and the small table beside it. "Papa, please wake up." The blond boy placed a hand on Roy's clammy forehead.

Then, a swift smack was heard, and a tiny red mark appeared on Roy's face. For a moment, Ed wasn't even sure he'd seen it happen, then realized as Aideen shook her left hand in stinging pain, she had been the one to smack him.

Coal black eyes opened, looking at the surroundings, a hand moving, only to find itself restrained, to the reddened cheek.

"What did I… Oh, damn it, Ed, what did I do to you?"

"Just startled me," Ed said hoarsely.

"Well happy birthday to me," Roy said, cynically as Aideen alchemically returned the bed to its normal state, Nicholas immediately wrapping his arms around his fathers. He didn't say he loved them, still preferring just to show it. Aideen, as though still afraid of what her papa might do, remained aloof, watching silently.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 **

_**Morning After**_

Frank felt like his head was going to split open. He swore he was even blinking too loud.

"Hello Frank," Kain said, stepping into the kitchen, "how are you feeling this morning."

"Shh. Not so loud," Frank whispered, but forgot to control his own voice when he elaborated. "I feel like my head…oooh." He buried his head in his arms on the kitchen table.

"I'll make coffee." There was a pause. "You already have the pot ready."

"The percolator was too loud."

Frank felt a hand half pat, half rub his shoulder. It had been strange moving in with Kain, the younger man almost motherly with him, but Frank had felt it was necessary as things had always been awkward at Roy and Ed's with no improvement made by Frank's overly protective attack on the fuhrer.

"Will you just tell me one thing?" Frank asked. There was no response, but he felt Kain was waiting. "How drunk was I last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"No. But I'm sure you do you bloody alcohol sponge. I swear. I met you drink for drink, and you're downright chipper this morning."

"You proposed marriage to two women, one man, a lamppost and a mailbox."

"Oh God."

Kain laughed. "You're a happy drunk."

"What time are we supposed to be over at Roy's for his birthday lunch?"

"In three hours. You have plenty of time to recover. Go into the other room. Lay down in the dark, and plug your ears. I'm going to make coffee."

"You'd make a nice wife, you know," Frank joked.

"So you said last night when you asked me to marry you," Kain said, smiling. Frank only groaned.

0o0o0o0

Roy was unable to shake Nicholas that morning, the boy insisting on giving him his birthday present immediately. It was a metal pencil holder, shaped like a large flame. Roy was certain his son had made the gift, and Nicholas proudly affirmed Roy's suspicions.

"Do you like it?" Nicholas asked, black eyes looking up at him in anticipation. "I never know what to get you. I mean, you're the fuhrer and can have anything you want."

"I love it, Nicholas." Roy kissed the blond's forehead, looking over the detail that Nicholas had put into the item, blending copper, brass and pewter, creating it with skill that a sculptor could not possibly have. "You're getting very good at metal alchemy."

"Daddy's been working with me." The boy looked up at Roy. "Does it feel any different to be forty?"

"Not really. But being forty makes me feel old." Roy pulled the boy into his lap, part of him wondering how much longer he'd have moments like this, as Nicholas already had some self-conscious tendencies when they were in public. It wasn't so much that being forty made him feel old, but rather that in only a few months, his children would be ten. "Well, I guess I better see how your Daddy's doing with the party prep."

"Daddy's asleep." That surprised Roy and yet it didn't. He expected Ed to be tired after last night and Roy's violent dream, but when it came to Roy's birthdays, the younger man tended to be stubborn.

Scooting Nicholas off his lap, Roy told the boy to go and help Wrath with the party preparations. Walking into the study, Roy found Ed curled up on the leather sofa that was much too old to still keep, but remained Ed's favorite piece of furniture. Ed was wearing a white turtleneck, his hair still loose, part of it hanging over the armrest.

Nervously, Roy walked over and knelt beside Ed, running a hand over the smooth cheek—it killed Ed that thanks largely to the hormone treatments, the minimal facial hair he'd had seemed to have made a permanent retreat. His hand slid down to Ed's neck, pulling at the fabric, seeing the beginnings of multiple bruises, all of which were his fault. Roy failed miserably to withhold the guilt that had been eating him up since early this morning, tears welling up in his eyes, not understanding why he couldn't shake these dreams, especially when he'd never had them after he'd made love with his husband. What if they were getting worse?

Standing at the radio, as though she had just finished turning it off, Aideen looked over at Roy. "You're crying," she said, her tone sounding far older than her nine years. "You know, you're not supposed to cry on your birthday." The little brunette took a few tentative steps toward her father. "Why did you hurt Daddy?"

"I had a bad dream. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Like when I sleepwalk?"

"A little like that. I just reacted without thinking or knowing it was him."

"Like it wasn't really you, like it was someone else doing it?"

"Not exactly. I had a nightmare and I felt like I was trapped in it. I didn't know your father was there, even you or your brother until you smacked me."

"Oh." Aideen froze in her spot. "What kinds of things do you dream about?"

"Sometimes things that I've done that I wished I didn't. Sometimes bad memories."

"And they make you do things that you wish you didn't do?" Roy nodded.

Aideen came closer until she was only a few inches away from he father. They looked one another in the eyes for a moment before the girl wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, his own circling around her back. "I'm sorry for hitting you, but you had me scared. Daddy and Nicholas couldn't wake you up." Instinctively, Roy found himself rocking the little girl, barely noticing as a warm hand rubbed his arm and Aideen's back.

"Can't even get a decent nap around here," Ed said, eyes still a bit glassy from recently waking up. Roy still couldn't help but notice that Ed's usually raspy voice was almost a whisper.

"Your neck," Roy said.

"I'm okay." Ed ran his hand over Roy's arm, then patted Aideen on her head. "Come on, we don't have long to get ready." Ed cleared his throat. "Get Nicholas and work on the table."

Roy didn't know at what time Ed had become perceptive, but he seemed to know Roy wanted time alone with him. Ed sat up on the couch, facing Roy, who was still kneeling in front of him. He immediately wrapped his arm around Ed, pulling him to the edge of the sofa, where Roy could more easily bury his head on the young man's chest. "I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "So sorry. I could have killed you."

"You give yourself too much credit." Roy felt as two arms cradled his head, and felt the weight of Ed's own resting on top of it. "I'm a hell of a lot stronger than you."

"Maybe we should sleep in different rooms, or maybe it would be safer for you if—"

"For better or for worse," Ed said. Apparently all that could come out, but more than enough of a reminder of the vows they had made over nine years before.

0o0o0o0

Ed went into the kitchen, desperate to shake Winry as he grabbed the cake Gracia had made for the party. Part of him was wishing his sister-in-law had some of Auntie Pinako's determination when it came to work; if she had, she might have been at the automail shop instead of annoying Ed at this birthday party. He knew for a fact that in Risembool right now, there was a seventy-one year old woman working on a piece of automail for a client, national holiday or not—the holiday for the sake of Roy's birthday Ed thought was a bit much on parliament's part.

"Why are you wearing a turtleneck today, Ed?" she asked, a smirk on her face.

"I was cold." He felt Winry grabbing at the collar. "Leave it alone!" he croaked. But it was too late, she'd seen them.

"Ed, what happened?"

"Roy had a nightmare, now can you drop it?"

"He did this to you?" Ed could see the darkness practically blurring her vision. "And he blamed it on a nightmare?"

"He had a nightmare, Winry." Ed sighed, rolling his eyes as he put candles in the cake, trying not to think back to the better part of the previous night as he licked a bit of icing off his knuckle. "We couldn't get him out of it. Aideen had to smack him to pull him out of that fog."

"That's why you're hoarse then?"

"Part of the reason," he said with a smirk, enjoying that Winry now looked suddenly ill at the mental image of what other reason might have made his voice raspy.

"I don't need details like that, Ed."

"No, but you supply enough about Al, and he's my brother for shit sake."

Once again, Winry pulled down the collar of Ed's turtleneck. "You should get Raine to do something about them."

"What the hell happened to you?" Ed heard Frank's voice say from the kitchen door leading to the porch. "Did Roy do that to you?"

"Don't go holding a knife to him, you barbaric bastard. He was asleep and had a flashback. He caught me off guard because he doesn't usually have them after… you know."

Then, Roy came down from upstairs, holding the present Aideen had just given him, a storage case for his gloves that she'd spent the last ten minutes, most likely, showing him how to open.

"Roy," Frank said, looking almost big brotherly as he did, "how much alcohol did you have last night?"

"What are you suggesting?" Roy asked, visibly squeezing tightly onto the little girl's hand. "Do you think I got drunk and—"

"I want to know how many of those complimentary drinks you had last night."

"I don't see where it is your business to ask."

"They had tequila in them, which is why I didn't drink them. If you are anything like the Roy I knew, tequila messes with your system, makes you an angry drunk and causes nasty nightmares."

"I didn't want to appear rude, so I had two," Roy's voice had gone from angry to that of surprised realization.

"And how long since you last really had alcohol?"

"Aside from the occasional glass of something, three years."

"And even then it was only enough to get tipsy," Ed said. Shooting Roy a tiny glare for the small incident with vodka.

"I don't think I've ever had more than a taste of tequila before last night."

"Then I'd recommend you lay off it. For Ed's sake."

0o0o0o0

Having a source of the night terror seemed to take a load off of Roy's mind, for which Ed was grateful. There had been discussions of separate beds or even Ed being better off without his husband. He knew the nightmares would likely haunt Roy for the rest of his life, but Ed had learned to predict them and most of the time, the horrible ghosts of Roy's past only showed themselves in the dream, requiring Ed to gently comfort his husband as Roy had done many times for Ed—the older man was not alone in his nightmares.

And leave it to Frank to realize what had caused last night's sudden outburst. Initially, Ed had blamed Frank, partly because of the incident with the knife that was honestly too long ago to have been the source of Roy's reaction and partly because the man was Frank Archer.

Ed was left considering how exactly he was going to hide the bruises which Raine, bless that woman, had lessened with her alchemy. The party was one thing, with friends and family around, all understanding of what Roy had gone through. It was that stupid ball tonight that parliament was forcing them to go through. Make-up smeared, and none of Ed's dress shirts had collars high enough to cover the marks. But he'd worry about that later.

At the moment, though Ed's concerns were with the battle royale currently taking place in his backyard, as a friendly spar between the twins—which Nicholas won at the last minute not from superior speed or strength against his smart-fighting sister, but because he manipulated her emotions by crying—started the adults going against one another. The younger ones, Wrath, Ed, Al and even Winry giving it a go, Wrath winning against Winry, Al winning against Ed as he always did. Wrath and Al had been a near tie as the former homunculus knew techniques foreign to Al, but eventually the younger Elric won. When the older group—not old, just older, Roy had corrected Nicholas—competed, it came down to Frank and Roy.

Sitting on the grass beside Fuery, Ed glanced over, half noticing as the man unconsciously licked his lips. Personally, Ed couldn't blame him. As always, he found Roy shirtless more than appealing, and he even had to give Frank credit for having a nice, solid build. However, Ed seriously doubted Fuery was staring at Roy, nor was he silently rooting for him, as each and every time Frank landed a blow, Fuery's body language said he wanted to be cheering for the older man.

"Shame on you, Fuery," Ed said, absentmindedly plucking a piece of grass. "He's your subordinate. You missed your chance after yesterday morning." Ed wondered if there had been a time when he had turned such a lovely shade of red, knowing that more than likely he had.

"First of all," Fuery said as he regained his composure, "you are certainly one to talk. You were the fuhrer's subordinate when you two were together. Secondly, it isn't like that. I was just remembering last night."

"And what happened last night?" Ed asked, his eyebrow quirked up just a bit.

"Frank drunkenly kissed me before asking me to marry him."

"Does he remember?"

"No. And it's better that way. Not that it was a real kiss." Ed only looked at Fuery, waiting for more details. "I pulled him away from the lamppost, who apparently rejected his offer of marriage, explaining to him that he needed to get back to the house. He said I was 'bloody brilliant' or something like that, grabbed my face, kissed me, and told me he wanted to marry me. He wanted me to be his wife."

Ed started to laugh. "His wife!" He tossed the piece of grass as he leaned back against the soft ground. "That's rich!"

"He said he hoped I'd be as good of one as you are."

Immediately, Ed shot upright again. "That bastard!"

Fuery grabbed hold of his arm. "He didn't know what he was saying."

"I'll kill him." He looked down at the pleading, puppy dog eyes below. "Fine. I won't. But really, Fuery, you need to get those checked. No one your age should be able to look like a little pup to guilt people into doing something."

Fuery grinned and watched as the spar continued, his eyes never leaving Frank.

"Daddy," Ed heard, feeling a familiar tug on his arm. Looking down, he saw Nicholas. "Are we going to open Papa's presents yet?"

"I think we should." He ruffled the blond hair, then yelled to the two men still going at one another. "All right, enough. We have presents to open and a ridiculous ball to attend later tonight. I don't need Roy bruised up any more than necessary."

"We can't just call it a tie," Roy said, breathing a little harder than he probably wanted to admit.

"Then Roy's the winner. He outranks Frank, I like him better, and it's his birthday."

"Works for me." Frank ran back up to the porch, unfortunately looking less winded than his opponent. It didn't go without notice from Roy, but Ed wrapped his arm around the bare back of his husband, placing a kiss on the older man's salty shoulder, silently gesturing to Roy the newfound crush that Fuery seemed to have on Frank.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 **

_**The Ball**_

"I look like an idiot," Ed said, pulling at the cream ascot around his neck. "I look…" He glanced at himself in the mirror, Roy watching as he staggered back looking almost frightened. "My father. I look like my friggin' father."

Roy wrapped his arms around Ed's shoulders, standing behind him. "You resemble him because you're dressed like him. But believe me, you don't look like your father." Roy nibbled on Ed's earlobe.

"Don't start something we don't have time to finish, Mustang," Ed said, running a hand to the back of Roy's neck before pulling away. Ed tugged at the black vest he wore, which hugged his V-shaped body. The black pants fitting just snuggly enough over his muscular behind, brand new, crisp cream shirt and ascot hiding the bruises at Ed's neck. Roy still felt a pang of guilt at that, knowing somewhere that his guilt might not ever really fade.

Ed had decided, since they would be dancing, he would pull his hair back into a careful and tight braid. Roy never really understood when he did this before going out to dance because the two very rarely did any dancing since Ed was far too self-conscious about the possibility of stepping on Roy's feet. Still, it had been strange to watch Ed take the same meticulous care with his hair that he did with his research when it was usually done so easily. Roy had gotten dressed, watching Ed suck his lower lip into his mouth, teeth seeming to hold it in place without actually biting it, those gold eyes focused on each turn and twist of the honey-colored locks.

Unfortunately, Roy had not paid much thought to the fact that he'd taken the same attitude when preparing his own hair, earning him an all-to-familiar Ed rant for once again putting pomade in it to hold it securely in place. By the time Ed's somewhat petty little rant was over with, the younger man had unknowingly acknowledged that he didn't mind the way Roy looked with his hair back, his flesh hand toying with the stubborn strands that remained hanging down over Roy's forehead. Ed had called it a "masculine look," and for the sake of his own ego, Roy didn't ask what Ed would term his "look" without the pomade.

Roy strapped on his patch as he watched Ed pull on his coat, tucking a vibrantly red handkerchief in the front pocket, the only real color in Ed's entire outfit.

"You know," Ed said, looking down at the piece of bright fabric, "there are times I miss that stupid coat of mine. Dress clothes are so… dull."

Roy smiled at Ed, who could be eloquent when he chose or could struggle to string a few sentences together. It was true that Ed didn't seem to belong in the browns, tans and blacks that made up the typical adult wardrobe, despite the fact that as one, he was expected to dress that way.

Roy held out his hand, knowing that offering an arm would likely get him smacked. "Well, are you ready to go to an incredible waste of time and money?"

Ed's left hand wrapped itself around Roy's right. "As long as we have to, I guess I am."

They left their bedroom, seeing that Aideen was already in the hallway with her brother, the sides of her hair in twin braids that were pulled to the back of her head where the rest remained unbound. Roy still remembered the one and only time they'd tried curling the stubborn mop of hair. It had involved crying and whining on everybody's parts, and her hair had remained nearly poker straight even after hours of working to make it otherwise.

Nicholas's hair looked somewhat less polished, as it usually did, stray hairs sticking out. Silently, Roy held out a hand, demanding Nicholas's coat, which he analyzed for firecrackers, smoke bombs, etc. Thankfully, he only found a rather innocuous hand buzzer and whoopee cushion. He then signaled to the boy to empty his pants pockets, finding what looked like the components for firecrackers, which for the little prodigy would be nothing to create. The set of large dark eyes averted from almond-shaped ones.

"Sorry, Papa," Nicholas said. "I got so bored last time."

Roy looked at his son, frowning.

"It won't be that bad, Nicholas," Aideen said, smoothing out her dress.

Looking at their entire family, Roy saw that Ed had essentially color-coordinated the four in shades of red, cream and black, as Aideen's dress was a rich red, with an ivory ribbon at her waist and matching lace at the bottom. Roy's own bowtie was black with thin red thread stripes running through it, and like Ed, he wore a cream dress shirt and red handkerchief. Even Nicholas had a red vest on, along with cream and black everywhere else. It seemed that whenever Ed was given the leeway with color, Ed took the opportunity to ensure the twins at least got a bit more of it than he did.

"Do I really have to go to this BORING ball?" Nicholas asked. "You don't always make us."

"But it isn't always your Papa's birthday," Ed said. "And you're nearly ten. You might as well get used to this kind of stuff."

"Stop whining, Nicholas. Major Archer's bringing music he wrote down from his world for the band, and it's a heck of a lot better than that boring" She began simulating a slow waltz in the hallway. "stuff they usually play." Aideen then looked down at her new black shoes… with heels. Since they'd been bought, they were all she'd talked about, that she got to wear grown-up shoes that brought her up past Daddy's chin. Roy hated the idea that Aideen was definitely growing up, but watching her get so excited over an inch heel never failed to draw his lips up into a smile. "And I promise not to make too much fun of your dancing Nicholas."

0o0o0o0

Frank moved his arms around in the navy blue suit he wore. After years of working with the Thules, he hadn't really had time to get a nice, tailored wardrobe like this one in a long while. The fabric felt stiff, almost too stiff as he attempted to move in it. Part of him wondered if it would be a terrible faux pas to take the coat off at some point in the evening. He'd been teaching Aideen some of the dances from earth and the little girl was determined to show off at the ball tonight, but the coat would be just a bit constricting for the former spy to attempt swing dancing.

He also didn't quite understand why he had allowed himself to be dressed, by Kain and Roy's sister, in a pink shirt with a pink handkerchief, which would get him punched at home.

"Hey Frank," Kain called from the doorway, "you ready yet?"

Frank turned around, seeing Kain in a pinstripe suit, looking fairly nice, if the older man had to admit it.

"You look good," Kain complimented.

"Thanks, though I still feel like a pouf in this."

"Pouf?"

"Sissy and… I think you call it gay."

Kain looked almost deflated at that response. "Yeah, that's the term."

"I mean, I'd just as soon face a rabid dog than call Wrath a pouf," Frank said, realizing he'd unknowingly insulted Kain. "He'd knock me senseless, but there are others…" He didn't add that Edward would probably have fallen into that category, knowing somehow it would get back to Ed, be taken as an insult against him, and result in certain injury to Frank.

"Oh." Kain nodded, but Frank watched him, realizing at that moment that perhaps Kain preferred men, and Frank might have to choose his words more carefully. He was accustomed to speaking freely with Wrath and Edward, even to an extent, Roy and Ed, but it felt awkward with Kain for reasons Frank really couldn't say.

"You look nice," Frank said, awkwardly. "When you wear your uniform, you always look like you're, well, a kid playing dress-up. You pull off a suit well."

Frank brushed the front of his suit off, only barely registering the slight pink tinge to Kain's cheeks.

"Well, now that I'm done being a vain priss," Frank joked, "I think it's time we go." He put an arm around the shorter man, this time, taking more notice of the redness in his superior officer's cheeks and the slight pink color to his ears.

For just a moment, he wondered if it hadn't been his references to poufs earlier, but rather Frank himself who was making Kain uncomfortable. Kain was a nice, decent guy, who perhaps liked men, but Frank, well to be honest, Frank did too and was grateful to be in a world where it was safe to be himself, but nice guys and Frank didn't happen. And Kain was a relationship type. Frank could tell just by looking at him. All the older man had ever had were one night stands, at least that hadn't ended miserably. Even if he did come to think of Kain as more than a friend, he couldn't do that to him. He was Frank's superior officer, and the former spy was almost guaranteed to screw up any kind of relationship he attempted, if past experiences were anything to go by. Frank liked being able to call Kain a friend.

"You can't just go bugger a friend," Frank mumbled to himself as he grabbed a stack of sheet music to hand to the band at the ball.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, Kain, just hoping I don't bugger my knee dancing tonight."

0o0o0o0

Dante stood in a darkened corner of the dance hall ballroom, kicking herself for her naiveté. She had actually thought that, with the entire government and military present in that room tonight, she would be able to send through a list of state alchemists and their photos to Frau Eckhart. If enough of those people from the other side, all of whom had to possess some natural ability, could be gathered together, it would be possible for them to open the Gate for at least a small amount of time.

Unfortunately for Dante, though she might be able to sneak away from the people in attendance, her greatest issue would be the people outside, the media and the "adoring public" who would notice her every move. They would want details of what was going on inside and why she hadn't stayed at the ball and if the fuhrer knew she was sneaking out early. It wouldn't work.

There was also the realization that, as much as she wanted to, she wasn't physically capable of standing up to a possible army of invaders from another world by herself if she helped them enough to reach Amestris immediately. She was sure she could leave it to the brat and his husband, and if they got killed, all the better. But honestly, she simply wasn't sure she was capable of doing any damage or posing any threat outside of her alchemy, and if the weaponry she'd been told of was real, Dante could be dead before she completed a transmutation.

That didn't mean she was giving up. She wanted the Gate open so she could possess all of the knowledge from the other side and use it to her advantage. She would control the use of the Gate just as she did the philosopher's stone. She would know the other world's technology, and prevent stupid humans from trying to use it here, where they had no business doing so. The ancient being who no longer considered herself human, despite her need to "borrow" the body she was currently in, considered herself the means of controlling humankind's idiotic ways.

The fact was simple, whether they be alchemist or average, humans simply were not capable of handling the mass amounts of power and responsibility they had been given. The sooner they recognized their own need to be kept in check, the better.

As that thought crossed her mind, the fuhrer and the brat passed by her, each smiling, completely obvious.

0o0o0o0

Finally through with the grand total of two dances he could do, Ed watched as the band looked over the strange music that Frank had provided for them. The blond was not about to attempt the dances that he'd seen Frank teaching the twins, since it took every bit of control Ed had just to manage the slower dances without injuring Roy. Ed could fight and move as naturally as breathing, as long as he listened to what his body needed to and could do. Dancing meant following a series of moves and steps that were not always natural for his metal leg.

So together, he and Roy stood, arms around one another's backs as Aideen waited for the signal from Frank. She looked so happy to be able to show off a talent other than her alchemy. Admittedly, her dancing wasn't perfect and her legs were still a bit too short, but she looked happy, and the music certainly was a step better than the boring crap that was usually blasted though these state affairs. Ed rested his head against Roy's shoulder as the older man leaned down and pressed his lips to Ed's forehead.

"Who knows," Roy said, "if she doesn't want to do alchemy for a living, she might have a talent in the arts. She's rather good at this, and we already know she can sing."

"Inherited that from me," Ed said, squeezing his grip on Roy just a bit, "because you're completely tone-deaf."

"But she did inherit a more melodic voice, probably from me."

"You trying to say something about my singing?"

"It's always on pitch."

"That wasn't a compliment." Ed looked up at Roy. "At least when I sang a lullaby to the kids, they didn't cry louder, or tell me 'Please, no' once they learned to talk."

The two watched as more people were pulled out onto the floor to either try for themselves or have Frank and the twins—yes, by now even Nicholas had gotten in on it—teach them. The dance floor was growing crowded, and Ed felt it was a safe time to pull his husband out of the main hall.

"What are you doing, Ed?"

Ed slid his grip on Roy until he was pulling the older man by his arms to the coat-check room. Pushing open the half-door, Ed pulled them both inside, pressing Roy against the furthest wall.

"Ed, there are people here, and there isn't even a full door."

The blond only rolled his eyes as he began unfastening Roy's bowtie. "Well then," Ed pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket before returning to the tie. "I suggest you make use of this. Wouldn't want them to know the fuhrer can be a screamer."

"First of all," Roy said, between gasps as Ed nuzzled against his now bare chest, leaving the occasional lovebite as he went, "I am not a screamer. Secondly, you are."

Ed looked up at Roy with a smirk before unfastening the older man's pants. "I'm figuring I'm going to be otherwise occupied."

With a smile, Ed saw that Roy was already hard. They were going to have to make this fast. He knew that, but there as a bit of a sadist in the blond that wanted to make Roy suffer for just a moment. Ed started to put the boxers back over Roy's straining member.

"What are you doing?"

"We shouldn't do this in public. You're right."

Roy leaned down and firmly kissed Ed, his tongue requesting entrance, and simulating what the lower portion of his body seemed to want to do to the blond's waiting mouth. Ed pulled away and tucked his head beneath Roy's for a moment, silently grateful for the difference in height. He hated admitting that he liked how well they fit together, how little it took for Roy to lift his head and Ed to tuck his own to press their entire bodies against one another as they were at the moment.

Ed had planned this to be a frantic, passionate show of spontaneity—despite anticipating doing it for about three days—but somewhere along the line, affection had come into play, regardless of the very firm reminders of intent at Ed's stomach and Roy's thigh.

Remembering why they were there and how little time they had together, Ed began to slide within Roy's embrace, moving to his knees and removing his own straining sex and a condom. He couldn't afford to make a mess, and he seriously doubted that they were going to have time for the birthday boy to reciprocate. In the back of Ed's mind had been the prospect of them both doing one another, but the room was small, and Roy had to awkwardly arch his back to ensure they both fit with one another—moments like those, Ed once again cursed his lack of height.

Carefully slipping the condom on himself, looking up at Roy all the while, Ed watched as the older man looked down at him, his hands once again removing the boxers Ed had replaced. While he tried to look as sexy as possible, Ed prayed he managed to get the damn thing on properly. Being that he and Roy were married and clean, there was rarely the need for one, and doing it single handedly didn't make it any easier.

The condom in place, Ed carefully brought his right hand to Roy, grateful that his husband trusted him enough not to injure anything with the automail. Ed wrapped his left hand around himself as he guided Roy's leaking phallus to his mouth, first darting out his tongue to toy with the older man's member. Glancing up, Ed saw the bright red fabric in Roy's mouth, his hands gripping it in place for lack of something better to hold on.

"And keep your hands away from my hair. You'll mess it up. That would be a dead giveaway of what we're doing."

There was a grunt of acknowledgement from above as Ed at a tortuously slow pace, took more and more of the man into his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. His head bobbed back, working to take a little more of him this time, as he watched Roy, mouth clenched around the red fabric, head back, and eyes shut.

Most would guess that as fuhrer, Roy held the power, and looking at this scene, Ed was sure they would have been certain of it, but even though Ed was kneeling in front of Roy, the man in his mouth, he felt like he had power. He was making Roy's knees weak, he was making his husband writhe against the hard wall of the coat check room, and he was getting off on it.

He relaxed his jaw and throat until he could manage all of the man he loved, knowing that he needed to rush this more than Roy might have liked, bobbing his head, the speed at which he was pumping his own member increasing. At his own ministrations, Ed was beginning to moan, feeling his husband stiffen, the muscles in his abdomen tensing.

He didn't have long now, so he increased his speed, eyes looking up at the wanton form of the Great Fuhrer of Amestris, desperately trying not to cry out and reveal their activities to the rest of the Amestris government. A few more pumps and bobs, and the two were crying out around the objects in their mouths, Ed desperate not to choke as he did.

Releasing Roy with a slight pop, Ed licked the corners of his mouth, trying not the twist his face up in distaste. He swore, the only time he hadn't minded the flavor had been while he was pregnant, but after catching Roy make the same expression a few times when he thought the younger man wasn't looking, he figured it was fair enough. Both liked seeing the other swallow, and neither one really liked doing it.

"Now we have to get ourselves cleaned up, and you might want to wipe up that sweat," Ed said, taking not that once again, his voice had gone from raspy to almost gravelly. "Though I don't know why _you're_ sweating so much. I did all the work."

0o0o0o0

Wrath didn't even want to admit he'd heard what he did from the coat room, or that he know damned well who it was inside. He'd been back in this world a month, and the two had been going at it like rabbits. Roy should have been glad Ed was a man, or else the two of them would certainly have had more than the twins to deal with.

At least now, it didn't hurt so much to know the two of them were together. They were family, not quite brothers, but close enough. They were happy and had been for most of Wrath's conscious existence. He didn't for a moment begrudge the couple that.

He returned the dance hall, watching as Frank and the twins continued to teach those in attendance. Watching as Frank pulled Kain out onto the floor, Wrath couldn't help but smile. Frank had been a good friend for many years. Wrath was somewhat amazed at how quickly Frank had adjusted to this world, wondering if perhaps, it had been something that Frank had needed as much as Edward, a place where he could be free to be himself without judgment. The former spy certainly looked at ease on the dance floor for everyone to see with his nervous commanding officer moving at his will.

Given the chance, Wrath would have been out there himself, but until his body was moving a little more easily on its own, he wasn't taking the chance.

"Where'd you disappear to?" he heard Roy say behind him, making Wrath glance over his shoulder just a bit.

"Went to the bathroom to… dispose of things." Wrath winced in disgust. It was one thing to support them, but another entirely to hear details. "Also, used the mouthwash."

Mental pictures Wrath didn't need appeared, so he moved further into the crowd, noticing that Aideen suddenly looked uncomfortable with her dance partner. She'd been dancing with the young man for quite some time, but now looked as though she was ready to move to another, to teach someone else, but he wasn't letting her go. He tried to get through the dancing couples and not get himself pushed or kicked, but heard a cry of pain and found Frank had the man by the collar of his shirt.

"She told you your turn was up. Why wouldn't you stop?"

"He kept asking questions about my fathers and about the government," Aideen said, looking up at the older man angrily. "When he wouldn't let me go, I stomped on his foot. Heels are good for more than just making me taller."

"A spy?" Frank asked.

"No," one of the senators said, "a want-to-be freelance journalist and my idiot son."

By this point, both Ed and Roy were at the center of the parted crowd, Roy protectively putting his arm around Aideen's shoulders, Ed grabbing hold of the young man's necktie.

"I allow the legitimate reporters because, despite being obnoxious, they do their job professionally, but it's you freelancers and mudrakers desperate to make a buck that I would love to see thrown out of the country for good. This little girl is not a source, nor is she a potential interview, nor is she someone who has chosen her fame and the spotlight of the media that goes with it," Ed pulled the man down look him in the eye. "She is my daughter, and she deserves an apology. Now."

"S-sorry."

"Now, if you think you're going to make any extra money off of this moment," Roy said, rubbing his daughter's arm, "you are mistaken. Not only will we give a press conference immediately to the waiting media concerning you in what I believe is called a 'scoop' in the business, but you're going to spend a few days under strict house arrest for harassment. Just long enough while the intensity of this dies down and no one is willing to pay for this story."

"And if you try that again with me or my sister," Nicholas chimed in from the crowd, "we'll beat you up before you can do anything about it."

"And since we're only kids, they won't charge us with anything," Aideen added with a devious little twinkle in her fiery eyes.

The man looked around the room, centering on two aunts, an uncle, and whatever Falman was to the twins, as well as three very stern-looking young cousins in front of them. All seemed to be silently cursing and bringing down plagues on the man at the center of the crowd.

Ed released the senator's son and had him carted away by the military police. As the man walked by, Wrath "accidentally" let his cane go too far into the man's path, tripping him to land solidly on his face, then making an expression of obviously fake apology.

"Well, now that that's over," Roy said, "I think my daughter needs to teach me how to do these dances." He turned to the bandstand. "Maestro, if you would please."

Ed quickly knelt down to hug Aideen, telling her he was proud of her before the music started and he bolted off the dance floor.

"Strange, isn't it," he said as he stood by Wrath on the sidelines, watching his daughter and husband. "She can defend herself, and we all know it, but it doesn't stop her extended family from trying to protect her." Ed patted Wrath's arm. "Oh, and the move with the cane was brilliant."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 **

_**Changes **_

_**Three months later**_

Nicholas stood opposite his sister, watching her carefully. He was stronger, faster, but she was smarter. He knew it. She knew it, and she'd stopped responding to his tears. There had to be another way to beat her. She could watch every move, every attack, only dodging just enough to find his weakness and take him down. No matter how he changed his attack, no matter what he tried, she outsmarted him.

He went in for another strike, nothing major, just in the chest as she'd hit him so many times before, several even in this fight. To his surprise, his stubborn sister doubled over, crying.

"Very funny, Aideen. You're not going to get me by crying."

"I'm not trying to 'get you'…" she said, sobbing. "It hurts."

"Aideen," their daddy said as he came out of the lab. "What's wrong?"

The girl hissed, standing upright. If Nicholas hadn't known better, it was like he'd just kneed her between her legs, except he knew it didn't work the same for girls as it did for boys.

"Nicholas hit me in the chest. It hurt."

Their father pulled off the rubber gloves, placing them in his lab coat as he went over to Aideen. "Sweetie," He knelt in front of her. "Aideen, are you okay?"

"I'm better now." With the back of her hand, she rubbed her eyes. "Why'd it hurt so much?"

An automail hand rubbed a dark head. "Unfortunately, it's just one of those things that happens to your body as you get older."

"You mean like the stuff you said would happen to m—" Nicholas found a hand over his mouth. He was only going to say that his fathers had talked to him about strange things that could happen to his penis as he got older, like it getting hard on its own and shooting out stuff that wasn't pee. Didn't Aideen get the same talk?

"It's different for girls, Nicholas." Nicholas said nothing, his mouth in the shape of an O. "Aideen, are you okay now?"

Nicholas looked at his sister, watching as she bit her lip and nodded her head.

"Why don't you two stop your spar for now, call it a draw for now, and get some cookies?"

Aideen nodded, and Nicholas certainly wasn't arguing about cookies, even if it meant calling the spar a draw.

0o0o0o0

Roy hung his coat up in the hall, hearing the sounds of the twins playing chess in the library.

He'd go in and see them later, deciding at the moment to see his husband.

"Ed?"

He went into the kitchen, finding Ed cutting up some vegetables at the table. "Hey," the blond said, putting down the knife and looking up at Roy. "We need to talk."

Roy pulled out a chair and sat opposite Ed. "What is it?" Roy knew that this had to be serious, if Ed actually said the words "we need to talk." Normally, he just pouted or got angry that people didn't realize he needed to talk about something important.

"It isn't necessarily bad, Roy." Ed looked across the table at him. "It's just that we have to face facts that Aideen is growing up, even faster than Nicholas." That was definitely true, in the last few months, while Nicholas had gotten a tiny bit taller, Aideen had shot up, the top of her head now just a bit below Ed's nose—the twins had taken to measuring themselves by how far they came on their shorter father. "Roy, I think we have to face the fact that Aideen is going to need a bra."

Roy felt certain that he was going to slide out of his chair. "Ed… what? She's only going to be ten in a few days."

"And according to Auntie Pinako, this happened about the same for my mom."

"But…" Roy wasn't sure coherent thought was possible. "She's not even ten."

"We've covered that already. I'm just saying she'll need a training bra."

"Training? For what?"

Ed put his hand over his face. "For her to get used to them. What the hell do you think? Shit Roy, you're the one who's at least _been_ with women."

"Not any who were wearing training bras."

"Well, that's very reassuring since they're usually under the age of twelve." Ed folded his arms across his chest. "I'm bringing this whole thing up because Nicholas hit her today in a spar, but he hit her chest, and for the first time, it hurt her." Roy looked at Ed, ready to question just how hard Nicholas had hit the girl. "Knee in the groin kind of pain, doesn't have to be done hard to be painful."

Roy nodded more than knowingly. Despite being a fellow man, when Ed got really upset over something unintentionally spiteful coming out of his husband's mouth, he wasn't above taking it out on Roy's nether regions, no matter how fond they both were of them.

"Look, I figured it was coming," Ed said, managing to stay far calmer than Roy felt. A bra? For his little girl?

"And with all of the flash bulbs and glaring lights that she deals with when we go out as a family, I knew we'd be doing this soon, if only for the extra layer's coverage. But if she's got enough to get hurt, then maybe it's time to take her shopping."

"But, she's still so young."

"Think of it as another layer of fabric between our daughter and the rest of the world."

"We'll need get Winry…"

"She and Al are dealing with Robert's birth father right now. The asshole signed away rights to his son, but now wants the little guy back."

"Then, when Raine and Falman get back from their little vacation…"

"Roy, she should probably have them for and be used to them by her birthday. The cameras will be worse then, and there will be party games."

"Do you want me to—"

"After this stunning display of knowledge and maturity? I don't think so. You'd probably scar her for life. I'll take her. At least I'll know what I'm talking about."

"So if you knew you had this under control, then why tell me?"

"Well, I didn't want you to panic or get upset that I left you out. And what kind of reaction would you have had to finding one in the wash if you weren't prepared for it?"

"Are you sure you want to do this tomorrow, Ed?"

"Might as well get it over with."

In the hallway, two voices could be heard, as well as two sets of footsteps, one set louder, obviously throwing a mini-tantrum.

"I'm not playing chess with you any more. It isn't fair. You always beat me."

"I can't help I'm better at it than you."

Nicholas went straight to the fridge to find the juice then to the cabinets for a glass.

"Hi, Papa." Aideen said, hugging Roy at his neck before getting a glass for herself, as Nicholas was obviously in no mood to share or be considerate. "You didn't let us know you were home."

He couldn't really deny that while they were the same age, Nicholas a few minutes older, Aideen was maturing at a much faster rate than him, sometimes even than other children her age. Then again, she'd always preferred the company of adults, and she was a girl. He had enough male friends to know that even as adults they weren't as mature as most teenaged girls.

Nicholas took a sip of whatever juice he'd poured and twisted his face up. "I thought this was punch."

"You couldn't tell by the smell it was cranberry?" Aideen said, rolling her eyes. "Dad, did someone drop him on his head as a baby?"

Ed winced a bit. Aideen seemed to alternate between using "Dad" and "Daddy" for him, the former appearing only occasionally as of yet, though it was only a matter of time before "Daddy" became a distant memory. "No, but _you_ head-butted me pretty good."

"Gave him two black eyes from hitting him at the bridge of his nose," Roy added with a smile.

"Aideen, I think tomorrow after you're done school, you and I are going to do a bit of shopping," Ed said.

"Can I come?" Nicholas asked.

"_Clothes_ shopping, Nicholas," Ed corrected.

"Never mind."

"Okay," Aideen said, sounding as though she could care less, but obviously watching Ed's face for the reason for the sudden shopping trip. "Is it for the party? You're not going to make me wear a dress with the party games we've got planned, are you?"

"No, jeans are fine. There are just a few things you're probably going to need."

Aideen was far too bright for that, seeming to know there was more to this than Ed was letting on, but merely sighed. "Fine."

0o0o0o0

The next morning, Ed wasn't exactly enjoying the idea of taking his only daughter bra shopping, having to explain to her some of the things that already should have been explained, things that her fathers should have told her when they'd started talking to Nicholas about some of the changes to expect in his own body. He'd have to take his daughter through the awkward process of measurements and cup sizes, then they'd have to decide what style or styles she needed, and probably she'd pick out colors and patterns. He could handle himself, but he was dreading the rest of the day.

All thoughts of that vanished from Ed's mind as he felt his pajama bottoms being pulled down. Ed didn't mind the idea of being woken up this way, but Roy was infamous for doing this. He'd do half of this while Ed was asleep, only for Ed to wake up near climaxing, then request Ed reciprocate once he was through, boneless and still half-asleep.

Roy circled Ed with his hand, forcing a moan out of Ed. He could hear the fuhrer bastard chuckle. Purposely thrusting his hips up into Roy's hand, moaning louder, Ed began mumbling as though still asleep.

"Mmmm… More… So good… Mmm, right there Jean…" Ed wasn't quite sure why Havoc had been the first name to come to mind, but he figured it didn't matter, as long as it got the desired result.

"Jean?" The hand moved entirely from Ed's body, and the bed shifted as Roy seemed to fly off it.

Ed opened his eyes, a smirk on his face.

"Jean? As in Havoc? Ed what the hell?"

"It was a joke, Roy." Ed looked down at his hard member. "You left something unfinished."

"It's going to stay that way. Damn it Ed, Havoc?"

"A joke, Roy," Ed said, pulling his pajamas back up, hissing as he did. "Roy!"

Ed's smile faded when he remembered his discussion with Roy not long ago discussing the fact that his husband hadn't been his first crush, but rather was preceded by Danny Brosch, a blond waiter at the café Ed frequented, Russell Tringham, and Jean Havoc, his very first crush. It probably hadn't helped that at the time, he'd teased Roy about the fact he'd always had a thing for blonds until Roy.

"_And I'm with you because…"_ he'd joked at the time, earning a rather pleasant kiss at the time.

"Shit. Roy, damn it, get back here bastard fuhrer. It was a joke. And people call me the girl in the relationship. Damn you, get back here."

"Ed, I'm going to the office early," Roy called from the door before going. He'd been in uniform while he…

"Shit."

Ed kicked the wall. If Roy was in uniform, it wasn't a morning he was expecting Ed to return the favor. It had simply been about Ed, and now Roy was pouting and going off to his own little corner.

"Shit," Ed repeated, as he looked up at the calendar. "Shit, shit…"

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, startling him. Turning around, he saw Wrath.

_Problems in paradise?_

"Very funny. I forgot my own birthday, which is also the day he proposed to me. Roy doesn't make a big deal because I don't like him to, and I forgot. He was trying to be… nice this morning and I made a stupid joke."

_I'm not going to guess what you mean by nice,_ Wrath wrote, making a face, _but what kind of joke did you make?_

"I mentioned another person's name while he was… being nice."

_That's cruel Ed._ Then, with another thought, Wrath scribbled again. _And disgusting_

0o0o0o0

Sitting at the diner, sucking some soda mixture through a straw, Kain sat opposite Frank, who had been behaving strangely all day. Frank wasn't really eating or drinking anything, just stirring around the cherry phosphate in his glass, slowly.

"So, Frank, have you thought about dating now that you've established yourself here?"

"I've considered it, but I have worked hard for a decent reputation. I start dating, I'll ruin that." Kain looked at him, confused. "I only do one night stands, flings. I don't do 'relationships.' Only one I had went into the crapper, and we both came out of it miserable."

"So you wouldn't give another one a try?" Kain couldn't believe he was asking this. They were getting dangerously close to a conversation he couldn't turn back from.

"I couldn't for a long time. Since I've been here," Frank said, actually taking a sip of the red substance in the glass, "I've been myself longer than I've been since I was twenty-four. Not that I minded. That was part of my job."

"But now, if there was someone here?"

Frank shrugged. "And what about you?"

"I've never done the one night stand," Kain said. "I've usually waited until… well, until I was sure."

"Until you were in a relationship."

Kain nodded, and the conversation went to silence, almost painfully.

"Breda actually took me out with Havoc last night. They're seeming to trust me more," Frank said, not taking his eyes off of Kain, to the point that it was beginning to make the younger man uncomfortable.

"I'm glad."

"I didn't let myself get pissed this time… By that, I mean off my ass drunk, not angry." Frank shook his head, actually looking away for a split second. "I have to remember double meanings."

"Really? I was hoping you'd tell me you proposed to some more of the streetscape."

"No." Frank's eyes were once watching Kain's face. "But did you know that memory is strongly linked to what state of mind you're in? I'd always heard that, but I guess I haven't been quite drunk enough lately to remember what happened after my induction into the military or I've been too drunk to remember again the next morning after I'd sobered up."

Kain's eyes got wide, but he said nothing.

"At first, I remembered proposing to the two women, then to the two items on the street. I started feeling very embarrassed, but then, I remembered you pulling me off the lamppost, telling me not to be worried about the fact it rejected me, telling me you'd help me get home. Then, I called you brilliant and kissed you, asking you to marry me and be as good a wife as Ed." Frank moved back from his drink, placing his elbows on the table and steepling his arms beneath his chin. "And you never told me the next morning. Why?"

"You were drunk, Frank."

"So what? You didn't mind teasing me about everything else, siccing Ed on me when you told him wife comment—"

"He promised me he wouldn't."

"Well, he did. Nearly ripped my throat out for it." Frank folded his arms across his chest. "Did you just not tell me because we're friends and you didn't want me feeling awkward? Was it terrible and you didn't want to say? Or are you so used to snogging your friends you didn't even notice?"

Kain stood from the table, throwing his napkin on it, and stood, looking down at Frank. "I was still getting to know you, and then, I thought it was a little soon to be doing this." In one fluid movement, Kain grabbed Frank's head, bending down until he was mashing their lips together. To his surprise, Frank was returning the kiss, not seeming to care they were in full uniform, making out in a public place and causing one hell of a scene.

Kain relinquished a bit of his grip on Frank, feeling the older man's lips turn upward into a smile. "I've wanted to do that for the last month. Once I remembered that night, I knew I could goad you into it."


	26. Chapter 26

_Thanks to all of my reviewers: Bar-Ohki, FMA lover912, I love Malfoy as a ferret, hink, iluvEdo, Bar-Ohki, reese (the Havoc/Gracia thing came from For Her for Him, the story that started this), syao9, BlackMercifulFaerie, Vixyfox, Ed Fullmetal Alchemist, Nienna Ringeril, ed'sgirl10310, Fuebi,9TailedNaruto94,klnolan, lioness78, Accursed Silent Hill, and Phoenix Guardian of Fire._

_I promise to make a better effort to actually address reviewers individually. So questions, comments, reviews all appreciated, very much so._

**Chapter 26 **

_**Guilt and Shopping**_

Ed walked through the halls of central looking at least half as sheepish and stupid as he felt. Twenty-seven years old and he was still behaving like a stupid child. Under his arm, he held a box of every single one of Roy's favorite desserts, reminded of when he'd done this not so much as an apology. He walked by Breda's office, waving at the long-time friend, who was on the phone and could only wave back. He walked by the office he'd stormed into so many times as a teenager, not paying attention to the open door or the man inside.

"Boss!"

Ed closed his eyes and grimaced. Shit, he didn't want to face him at the moment. He turned around and stood at the door.

"Hey, Ed. Happy birthday." Havoc actually looked eager to talk to him. "You can come in, if you want." Ed hesitated. If Roy walked by and saw him in Havoc's office, he'd have to buy up a whole damned bakery. "What did I do to everyone today?"

Ed stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, when I dropped off some stuff to the chief, he practically growled at me."

Ed approached the man at the rather large desk. He looked down at the top of the once shiny piece of furniture. "Damn, what did you do to this thing?" there were nicks, water marks, stains all over the top.

"Can't say I always feel like taking especially good care of it," Havoc said, "knowing it was Bradley's. But, I really should because no replacement I get is going to be this huge."

"With the way you treat it, I'm surprised it's lasted this long."

Havoc smiled. "I wanted to talk to Roy when I came in, fellow parent and all, but he looked like he'd have bit my head off. I was wondering if maybe you could give me a little advice."

"I can try. Having problems with James?"

"No, believe it or not," Havoc said with a sigh. "Elysia. You know it's her birthday today…" Actually along with forgetting his own, he'd forgotten Elysia's. "And instead of doing something with the family, she wanted to go to some dance with a bunch of older kids Gracia and I don't know. They're all able to drive, and a couple are old enough to drink."

"That would be a no."

"That's what I told her. Making that decision was easy. What came after it wasn't. She told me she hated me, that I had no right to tell her what to do because I wasn't her real father, and that I'm the worst person in the world."

"She's fifteen, Jean. What do you expect? Look, as a parent, I can't offer advice. Mine are just maturing, but still young enough to be considered cute and precocious." Ed put a hand in his pocket. "But as someone who was a teenager not too long ago, she doesn't mean it and you'll have to give her time."

"I was hoping for a solution." Ed just shrugged. "Now, do you have any idea why the fuhrer's so angry at me?"

"It's my fault. But you don't want to know."

"My commanding officer and the leader of the country is mad at me. I think I have the right to know why."

"I warned you." Ed took a deep breath. "I forgot what today was. So when Roy was trying to wake me up pleasantly, I thought he wanted something. He usually does, and as a joke, I made him think I was calling out someone else's name in my sleep."

"Ed! Why me?"

"I don't know. But he's really upset. Especially since I deflated his ego a few nights ago by telling him he wasn't my first crush, which apparently he thought he was."

"Well…"

"You were."

"Me?" Havoc started laughing.

"Don't make fun of me. I was twelve. I couldn't tell the difference between gay, straight or bi. I just thought you were nice looking."

"So you liked me before the fuhrer." The laughter grew.

"Yes, but what does that…" Ed realized the reason for Havoc's sudden change in mood. "You can't throw that in his face. He might never speak to us again."

"It might be worth it. He took every date I ever had, but the man he's married to had a crush on me first. I could have snatched you out from under him."

"And gotten arrested for pedophilia. Legal adult or not, I don't think the military would have looked too fondly on it." Ed leaned forward on Havoc's desk. "Look, you can't tell him I told you. Not today."

"I promise, but you know I'm going to eventually."

Ed nodded, rolling his eyes and making his way to the door, finding a dark-haired man standing, shooting daggers at him. "What shouldn't he tell me, Ed?"

"That he liked me first!" Havoc blurted out, laughing again.

"We'll see how easily you laugh if you're charred to a crisp." Roy grabbed Ed by his shirt, dragging him into the hallway. "So how long has this been going on Ed?"

"Nothing was going on, Roy. He was asking advice about Elysia."

"Then why did you shut the door? Havoc never has his door closed when he's just talking to friends."

"Look, I came here to apologize you jealous bastard." Ed heard the footsteps of Havoc behind him, knowing that to have the older blond following was a very, very bad idea.

"And that's why you went into Havoc's office first? Trying to get your stories straight?"

They were now standing at Roy's office door, which the older man opened, revealing Breda, a rather flushed Fuery and Frank, Gracia, Winry, and Al.

"Happy Birthday!"

Ed looked up at his husband. "You son of a bitch!"

"Originally, I was just going to ask you to come up here to visit, but this worked so much better." Ed began hitting his husband, but Roy just wrapped his arms around his, placing a kiss on his cheek, and whispering in his ear, "You should just be glad I don't believe in birthday spankings like some people do, after your behavior."

"You try it and I swear you're a dead man."

Behind them, Havoc was laughing, obviously in on it all.

"I still couldn't believe it when the chief said you'd forgotten."

"I didn't forget. I thought it was tomorrow. I've had a lot on my mind and I thought today was Wednesday, not Thursday." Honestly, coming to grips with the fact that he was going to have to get a bra for his daughter had forced the fact that he was now twenty-seven completely out of his mind, though Roy's confusion as to why he'd decided to do the shopping today seemed to make much more sense.

"Come on, Brother, Gracia made a chocolate cake for you." Al grinned from Roy's desk. "And Winry and I only have a short recess before we have to go back and fight Robert's deadbeat father."

Ed couldn't have agreed more with the description of his nephew's biological parent. He'd had to testify on his brother and sister-in-law's behalves already that morning, and deadbeat seemed to be the general impression.

"And Fuery and Archer went over to the diner to get about a couple dozen sandwiches," Breda said with a smile. "Though I'm sure they didn't mind the wait since they were otherwise occupied."

Ed looked over a Fuery and Frank, seeing the older man looked just a bit smug, and Fuery was crimson in embarrassment.

Al stood over said cake, lighting well over two dozen candles on top. "We had a heck of a time fitting all these on. You need to blow them out and make a wish."

"One that doesn't involve castrating me for this," Roy teased.

0o0o0o0

Later that day, when they were alone in the office they had to share, Frank found Kain once again standing over him as he sat. "Everyone has heard about us at the diner," his superior officer said.

"Really?" Frank smiled. "Then I guess that we won't have to pretend it didn't happen."

"But what do we tell people?"

"We kissed?" Kain was flustered. Frank liked it.

"You know what I mean. Are we…" Kain folded his arms. "You said that you don't have relationships, but…"

"I was warning you, Kain. I've only managed to date once, and it ended very badly. You are my friend, so obviously, I don't want the same thing to happen."

"Then, we have to make sure it doesn't." Kain tentatively reached a hand out to touch Frank's face, and though Kain looked somewhat nervous, it was Frank who felt that at any moment, his calm demeanor might break. He looked up at the younger man tentatively, his blue eyes trying to hide everything going through his mind.

When a calloused hand met his cheek, Frank remained still, trying not to lean into the touch and definitely not to move away. Unconsciously, he licked his slightly chapped lips, his breathing going just a bit more ragged. This was uncharted territory for the older man, and he was willing to let the younger guide it.

"Will it matter that you're my superior officer?" Frank asked, his sapphire eyes meeting Kain's chocolate ones. Kain shook his head, rubbing Frank's temple with his thumb. "Then what are you waiting for?"

The younger man leaned down, pressing their lips together, almost chastely before shifting just enough to pull Frank's bottom lip between his own. There was such a tender affection in that kiss, Frank tried very hard not to let it affect him, tried to pretend that there wasn't a part of his rigidly trained psyche that just wanted to melt into Kain's touch.

When his commanding officer, a man nine years his junior, moved his hand down Frank's cheek and gently rubbed the back of his neck, as though he already knew how sensitive that area was, Frank's breath caught in his throat and his mouth opened, just enough that Kain took advantage, softly, sensually slipping his tongue between the former spy's parted lips. It wasn't the first time Frank had been kissed this way, but honestly, he'd never felt someone take such care into the act, as though Kain was purposely mapping out every ridge, every tooth for future reference. The tongue withdrew, and the lips placed another soft kiss at Frank's somewhat abused bottom lip before he pulled back.

Despite the fact that Kain's simple kiss had left him in nearly a pile of mush, Frank could only manage a faint chuckle. "Your glasses are steamed up."

0o0o0o0

Ed waited for Aideen to climb into the front seat of the car, not failing to notice that she still looked suspicious of him. Nicholas was off to Winry and Al's, where Auntie Pinako was baby-sitting. Ed only prayed his son helped with his cousins rather than make a situation worse.

Aideen shut the door and looked over at Ed as he pulled out from in front of the school. "Daddy," she said, "is there a reason we're going shopping today? I mean, it's your birthday, so it has to be something I really need."

"Well, honestly, I got my days screwed up. Too much time in the lab. I'd have taken you tomorrow if I'd really thought about it. But, we are getting something you're going to need." Ed could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "We need to get you a bra."

"Oh," was all she said at first, looking out the side window. She didn't turn as she added, "So why didn't you say so last night."

"Because your brother's nosy, and I didn't know how you'd react."

"You didn't have to keep it from me like it's a big secret." She looked down at her chest for a minute. "You really think I need one?"

"Sorry, honey." They'd reached a stop light, and he glanced over at his daughter. "You're taking this remarkably well."

"I saw one of Auntie's in the wash when I spent the night. She explained what it was, what it was used for…" She looked down again. "I still don't think I need one yet." She looked over at Ed. "Auntie said she didn't know if the 'two men' raising me would be able to 'bring themselves to talk about them.'"

"Sounds like Raine." Ed pulled through the intersection. "Did she explain to you why they would grow?"

"Part of growing up, becoming a woman. She said that even though they're mostly for feeding babies, as far as their purpose goes, that a lot of men like them."

"Not all men."

"No, she said not men like you, or Lieutenant Colonel Fuery."

Mentally, though Ed was thanking Raine for having gotten the most awkward part of this out of the way through medical knowledge and being a woman, though far too blunt for her own good. Ed also wanted to talk to her about being _so_ blunt with his daughter.

"There are also decent men who won't be fixated on them that aren't like me or Fuery."

"Oh." "Did she explain some of the other things that might happen?"

"She said that I might notice that something makes me feel really good, and I'll notice it," She blushed, making Ed seriously wonder if he should be asking her this. "down there. And that it can get wet, and eventually when my body says it can… have babies, I'll get a period, but not like the kind in English class." She almost audibly swallowed. "She said that part sometimes hurts, and there's bleeding."

Yeah, Ed was really going to have to remind Raine that he needed to give this talk, or at least clear when it was appropriate to tell Aideen all of this. Personally, Ed didn't know about his daughter, but to hear those things come out of the girl's mouth not only made him want to lock her away until she was eighty, but also pray that the car could open up and swallow him.

"I didn't know you knew that much."

"Auntie said I might as well know it. Some of the girls in school talk about it, or their sisters going through all of this stuff."

Ed pulled in front of the women's clothing store, parking the black vehicle. "Was there anything else?"

"She said there was more, but that I was too young yet." Aideen rarely blushed, but at the moment, she looked as embarrassed as Ed felt. "I wish I'd been too young for all of that."

"Unfortunately," he said, running his hand down her long hair, "embarrassment over these little talks is just one more thing that comes with growing up. Auntie Pinako and…come to think of it, your papa had to explain a lot of this to me." Now there was a disturbing thought. Before they'd been together, one of Ed's sex talks had come from Roy, on an official capacity discussing STDs, and since Ed had been young, he'd also learned quite a bit about positions and the act of sex itself. Now along with being embarrassed, Ed was just a bit traumatized by that last, absolutely unnecessary thought.

Aideen was not the type to hesitate for anything, yet Ed felt as though he was forcing her inside of the shop as he put his arm around her back and walked through the door.

"If it's any consolation, I guarantee you that some of the changes your brother will go through will be embarrassing for him, too."

Aideen held her hand up, index finger and thumb about an inch apart. In other words, it was a small consolation.

0o0o0o0

When Roy got home, he saw Ed once again in the kitchen, this time, bent over in the fridge. Unable to resist, he gave his husband's behind a little tweak, getting a startled yelp from within the fridge.

"Hello to you, too," Ed said as he pulled out of the fridge with a pitcher of lemonade.

"So how did it go?"

"We're going to have to talk to your sister. I had to do very little talking because Aideen's known about most of this stuff for going on two months."

Roy had some mixed feelings about that idea. While he was grateful he hadn't needed to give this talk to his daughter, he might have liked some advanced notice that his sister was already doing it. "Did she get some?"

"Yeah, about four training bras, they're basically just shortened tank tops, and a couple lace ones."

"Lace ones?"

"Relax. They're not dirty lingerie, but she saw them, thought they were pretty, and it was the first time she looked happy through the whole ordeal. So we got two."

"There weren't any that locked in place?"

"They don't make them," Ed said, rolling his eyes. Then added quietly, "I checked."

0o0o0o0

Nicholas hoped he'd never see the look of pure anger and humiliation on Aideen's face when she saw it. Printed in one of those "rag" newspapers that came out in the evening was a picture of his sister, holding up a bra—yes he knew what they were—when she'd been shopping that day. The headline above it said "First Daughter Growing Up and Out." Nicholas's first instincts were to grab his papa's gloves and incinerate the papers and the newsstand that sold them.

Nicholas put his hand on Aideen's shoulder, and looked up at his sister, who was now an inch and a half taller than him. Her entire body was as stiff and rigid as a board, her gold eyes flashing only her rage, and her hands were balled into fists so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

"Who did this?" she said.

Nicholas watched as his papa grabbed one of the newspapers, the man who ran the little stand arguing at first. "This isn't a library. You have to pay—"

Their daddy smacked his right hand down on the wooden counter, cracking it and leaving a hand-shaped indentation behind. "Take a good look at me and the man holding the paper and say that again."

"Oh, I'm sorry Lieutenant Colonel Elric, Sir. Fuhrer Mustang."

"Son of a bitch." Nicholas gasped at his papa's sudden curse. "It's the little prick from the ball."

"Well, we know what's going to be waiting for us when we get home."

Nicholas knew there was no doubt the reporters would be waiting for a reaction from the family, from both his fathers.

"Aideen," he said to his sister, seeing she hadn't moved from her spot, still seething.

"I want revenge. You're good at that kind of stuff. Any ideas?"

"How bad of a revenge?"

"How bad can we manage?"

"How about making the entire country hate him and throw things at him?" Aideen raised a dark eyebrow.

"You're the media's darling. They love you and don't want to see you hurt. That's why they will be at the house, waiting to hear what you and our fathers will say."

"Fine. But where does the country hating him come in?"

"Cry."

"What?"

"Cry, tell the media you're embarrassed, that the man hurt you by putting that in the papers. Make the media hate him and the country will hate him."

Nicholas watched Aideen through the car ride home, seeing her at first contemplating his idea, then trying to make herself cry, obviously lacking in the skill he'd become rather good at. "Think of something sad. Like Carlida or Black Hayate dying." He watched as she thought, eyes darting a bit as she was obviously trying to come up with something. He glanced up at his fathers, who had partitioned the vehicle between them so the adults could curse the reporter in peace. "Did you think of something?"

"Today when I was shopping for… well, you know. It was printed in black and white. There was a girl a little older than me shopping with her mom. Today, if our mother had been here, it would have been her."

Nicholas could see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I think you have it."

The car pulled up to the front gate, where their papa stopped the vehicle, stepping out, their daddy at his side. The two adults began to officially talk, Nicholas nudging Aideen out of the vehicle, tears freely flowing down her cheeks.

"Miss Mustang," one of the reporters said, seeing her exit the vehicle, "what do you think of the article printed this evening?"

"You don't have to answer anything," Nicholas heard their papa say as he rolled down the window.

"I'll answer," Aideen said, sniffing. "I think the article was a mean and terrible thing to do. I just don't understand why that man won't leave me alone. He wouldn't stop dancing with me at the ball, and now, he put something that was personal in the paper." She rubbed away the tears with her hands. "Most of you are very nice to me, and I know that, but you just don't understand what it's like to have every minute of your life in a paper or on a newsreel. It is embarrassing enough to have to shop for those, and hard enough to do it knowing your mother…" She was getting choked up, and whether it was real or for show, he was certain the world would hate the reporter come morning. "your mother would have been the one taking you, but…" There was a faint sob, and both their fathers were now at her side to comfort her. "It isn't fair. I want my papa to be fuhrer because he's good at it, but that doesn't mean I want cameras following me everywhere. Tomorrow, that man will have made money off the picture and story, but I have to go to school, and I know everyone will have seen it."

Their daddy gathered Aideen into his arms, their papa rubbing her back as he did.

"She's had a rough night, and we're going home now," he said in his best fuhrer voice. Once again their papa climbed into the driver's seat, their daddy climbing in the back, Aideen still in his arms.

As the door was shut, Aideen looked over at Nicholas. "I think…" She sniffed. "I think I got too into it. I started thinking about our mother, and I couldn't stop crying."

"So this was planned?" Nicholas winced at the sharp gold eyes focused on him.

"I told her that if she cried to the reporters, they'd make everyone hate the man who wrote the story."

"And you went along with it?" Aideen nodded.

"Why, you devious little brats." Nicholas found himself being gathered into his father's embrace.

"We okay back there?" their papa asked as the partition was rolled down.

"They staged the whole thing."

"Remind me not to get on their bad side."

0o0o0o0

"Ed, are you sure you don't want to…"

"Roy, believe it or not, I'm exhausted." He curled up on his husband's chest, tucking his head beneath Roy's chin, his metal arm and flesh leg thrown on top of Roy while the rest remained on the bed, Roy's arm wrapped around him.

"I swear you're part cat." At that, Ed lightly licked Roy's chest.

"Can't purr though."

"You should hear yourself during sex sometime." Roy chuckled, rattling the chest serving as Ed's pillow.

"So you knew all along that I was kidding this morning?"

"At first, no. I was jealous as hell. Not that you or Havoc would do anything, but the thought that you would dream you were… It pissed me off, to be honest."

"You just cussed," Ed said, running his hand down Roy's arm, feeling sleep slowly capture him.

"I'm breaking precedent today."

"I felt really guilty. Could have told me you figured it out, bastard."

"I know you felt guilty. Sixteen pastries guilty."

Ed jabbed him a bit in the ribs, tickling the older man more than harming him.

"I can't believe Havoc was in on the whole thing. Making up that story about Elysia—"

"That wasn't made up. He asked me the same thing when I was practically growling at him when I first came in." Ed could feel Roy's hands rubbing circles on his lower back. "I told him that teens have the tendency to lash out against authority figures. And sometimes you just have to wait for it to pass." Roy kissed the top of Ed's head. "I have had plenty of experience."

"So you gave out parenting advice based upon your experience with your husband." Ed could hear Roy, flustered, trying to come up with a response. "Consider that one before you go to sleep." With that, he squeezed his grip around the brunette tighter.

"Thanks so much." There was another kiss to his hair. "Happy birthday."

"Mmm-hmm." Ed let the sound of his husband's heartbeat lull him to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

_**iluvEdo**__, thanks. I have these all posted on other sites, but am trying to catch up on this one and edit the original. It's taking longer than I'd like. __**Kyonah kimiwaru**__, I am continuing. It's already 60+ chapters. __**Outcast Martyr**__, I'm editing the whole thing, and have to tone down the love scenes to make them at least slightly more appropriate for __**FMA lover912**__, Aideen and Ed definitely got a new bonding experience. They do fight, but there's too much going on around them for the two guys to fight seriously (though Roy has been forced to sleep in the guest room after the glove incident)._

**Chapter 27 **

_**Affectionate Memories**_

When the doorbell rang about an hour before guests were to start arriving for the twins' birthday, Roy found both running to the door excitedly, particularly when they realized that the man standing out front was carrying several packages, the two obviously couldn't contain themselves.

"We have one here from in town, one from Creta, and one from Xing," the delivery man said, smiling at the twins. "I'm guessing that at least one of these has birthday presents for the two of you."

Roy knew that there were probably more, but only those from registered addresses were allowed through the door without thorough inspection. He took the clipboard from the delivery man and signed for all three.

"So what do we have?" Ed yelled from the back door where he'd been gathering together a few bushels of apples.

"One from the emissary of Creta," Roy responded. The man had religiously sent the twins a birthday present each year since his initial visit, always items and books that were unique to his country and its heritage. "One from my cousin in Xing." It had become a widely publicized fact that Roy's grandmother had been a Xingian, the reason for his hair and eyes, a few years ago. Honestly, Roy was surprised no one had figured it out based on his appearance, or the fact that since he'd become fuhrer, relations with the country had drastically improved.

"The last one's from the photography place where we did our family portrait."

"Oh!" Ed sounded startled, and ran out of the kitchen. "That is a very belated birthday present for you."

"Can I open it in front of the kids?" Roy asked eyebrow raised.

"Pervert." Ed shook his head at Roy's assumption. "It's perfectly safe. It's just the studio thought they'd lost the negative for this one. They rushed the order once they found it."

Roy removed the brown paper covering what appeared to be two framed photos, one slightly larger than the other. "One's for the library, now that we've got it back and Wrath's in the guest room. The other's for your office."

Roy removed the paper and began to chuckle.

"Let me see!" Nicholas said, craning his neck to look at what his papa was holding.

Aideen, who was taller than him by enough to see the picture, looked surprised. "That's the photo we messed up. Daddy, you yelled at us for an hour for that."

Roy noticed Ed smile at the use of Daddy. "I know I did, but your father has a certain fascination with candid photos."

Roy looked down again at the portrait. He and Ed were both looking down in surprise and disappointment at the twins. To look at Aideen, there seemed nothing wrong, as she had a pleasant smile on her face, and was standing perfectly straight, posture exact. Behind her, however was a set of bunny ears halfway dipped behind her head. To look at Nicholas, the expression of shock on his face was obvious, as Aideen's right arm had a hold of his shirt, pulling him toward the floor.

Roy chuckled a bit.

"I'm going to hang this up, then I'll get back to helping you with the party." Roy quickly kissed Ed. "Thank you."

"Hey, I've learned by now that you like those weird photos." Ed squeezed Roy's hand before returning to the backyard.

As Roy went into the library, he heard the footsteps of the twins behind him. "Papa," Aideen said, "why do you want this photo? It's all messed up."

"I want it because it shows the real you, and the real Nicholas," he said. "I'm not sure I have a new favorite, but I think it's an awfully close tie."

"Your favorite? That one of all of your soldiers?"

"That would be the one."

Roy took it off the wall. "I liked this one so much I still carry part of it in my pocketwatch, along with one of the two of you."

Roy pulled his leather desk chair away from the desk before sitting down, one twin standing on either side of him. "It is the only photo I have of your mother, your daddy, and my friend Maes. It also has Havoc, Breda, and Fuery."

"Maes and Colonel Breda are holding Daddy up, and he doesn't seem very happy about it," Nicholas said, laughing. The photo had hung up for so long. Why had he never brought it down for them to see?

"He wasn't because it meant he was too short to be in the shot, and he didn't like short jokes."

"He doesn't get too upset about them now," Aideen said, tracing a finger over the wildly thrashing fifteen-year-old in the shot.

"Probably because I don't call him short every other day. I used to tease him a lot."

"Used to?" Aideen said, looking up at Roy.

"Well, I do, but about different things now."

"Maes looks like he was a lot of fun," Nicholas said, almost puffing out in pride that he was the namesake of the man who'd angered his daddy.

"He was, and my best friend. He loved to tease people, especially me. He was always telling me that I needed to get a wife."

"Instead, you got a husband," Nicholas said. "You got things messed up a little." Roy ruffled the blond's shaggy hair.

"You look so different on here," Aideen said.

Roy nodded; after all, he didn't have the patch there.

"Well, yeah, Aideen, he's young here."

"I don't mean that. I've seen pictures of him then. It's just that, even though what's going on with Daddy is really funny, Papa doesn't look... well, really happy."

It was amazing that the children had become accustomed to the fact that Roy's pictures as a younger man did not have him with a patch, but he was astounded at Aideen's astute observations. Back then, there was so much hurt that had yet to fade, even just a little, and with no family of his own, Roy's only source of happiness was the hope that one day he would rise through the ranks and become fuhrer.

"Well, I didn't have the two of you back then. I wasn't even dating your mother or daddy yet."

Aideen's finger then traced over the blond at Roy's side in the photo.

"Your mother, on the other hand was absolutely serious, but she was the only person who could keep me from procrastinating. She could scare me half to death when she wanted, but when she wanted to be kind, she could be the gentlest person you've ever met."

"Sounds familiar," Nicholas said, looking over at Aideen.

"She was a few years younger than me, but we met while I was fighting in Ishbal."

"She was a sniper there," Nicholas said. "We know she was one of the best people in the military to use a gun, which is why she was allowed out of the academy early, like you."

"She was especially good when she was defending someone she cared about," a voice said from the door. Roy looked up at Ed and smiled. The blond walked into the room and crouched down in front of Roy, putting a hand on either of the children's backs. "And she was so excited about the two of you. Riza wasn't a sad person or an angry person most of the time, but something had to be very special to get a smile out of her. When she talked about being a mother, you couldn't get rid of the grin on her face."

And even though Roy could see his vision getting blurred by unshed tears, he looked to the twins. "And remember, no tears. Today is your birthday, and I know she'd want you to be happy for at least today."

Roy shifted, signaling to Ed to move, which he did so that Roy could stand and replace the photo on the wall.

He smiled at his children before taking their hands and leading them out into the yard, giving each tiny hand he held a squeeze.

0o0o0o0

Ed laughed as he watched Aideen tentatively dunk her head in a large tub of water and apples.

"Are you that much of a wimp that you can't handle a little water?" Nicholas teased.

Aideen's eyes narrowed at her brother before she dunked her head fully into the water, coming back up with an apple firmly between her teeth. With a smug look in her eyes, she grabbed hold of the apple and took a bite, a grin on her face that purposely taunted her twin.

Ed rolled his eyes, leaning back on the railing of the porch, head tilted back toward Roy, who was cooking hotdogs and hamburgers at the grill. He smiled, watching Frank Archer, of all people, clocking the kids as each took their dunk in the tub, trying to retrieve an apple. He looked happy, and he supposed the man helping the kids towel off had something to do with it. If Frank looked happy, Fuery looked over-his-heels giddy with the older man, not to mention the strange impression that Ed had that Frank was not the initiator in their relationship, but rather followed Fuery's lead, giving up just a bit of control, which Ed had learned over the last few months, was not something the older man did easily.

Playing with the younger children, one of them their own, another a very massive toddler version of Armstrong with just a hint of Rose mixed in, Al and Winry seemed to be just as happy. On the porch, Raine was insisting that Falman put on some aloe vera for the sunburn he'd gotten on their vacation. In a far corner, Elysia was still pouting, but trying her best for the twins to look enthusiastic about all of this. Nearby, Jean was cheering on James as he bobbed for apples, Gracia trying to encourage her daughter to try and enjoy herself. Breda was desperately avoiding Black Hayate, standing close to where Sig Curtis was sparring with Wrath at the far end of the yard, Armstrong telling them he'd take the winner and watching as the fight continued. His eldest son, the adoption of Rose's little boy finally official, stood nearby watching, Phillip seemingly torn between his adopted father and mother, as Rose was yelling for him to give bobbing for an apple a try.

Even across the field, Ed could hear that over-confident voice saying, "Come now, Phillip, it is goes against Armstrong line to step down from a competition."

The lithe curly-haired brunette looked up at his father, looking just a bit embarrassed before nodding and running over to stand by his mother's side and patting her arm. When his turn came up, he gave it a try, managing a respectable time, but one that didn't compare to either of the twins'.

"And the winner is…" Frank looked at the kids, who danced around anxiously. "Aideen."

"That had to be rigged!" Nicholas blurted out.

"Congratulations, Aideen," Phillip said, patting Ed's daughter on the shoulder. Even from the distance he was at, Ed nearly collapsed at the sight that was blatantly obvious.

"Ed," he heard above him. Once again looking up, Ed saw Roy looking down at him nervously, "Ed, did our daughter just blush?"

"I think she did."

"Aideen doesn't blush." The two fathers nervously made eye contact before they looked over at their daughter. "Ed, I don't care if they don't make them, I'm going to make a bra that locks."

"She's only ten, Roy, cut her a break."

"But she blushed."

"And she's growing up, all at once it seems." Ed tried to cover the fact that he felt like there was a giant knot in his stomach at the idea that their daughter apparently had a crush on Rose's son. Her first one, as far as he knew. Silently, he wondered why these things had to happen in rapid succession. He wasn't sure he could take it, and guessing from Roy's intense grip on the railing, neither could he.

0o0o0o0

Never in his life had the fuhrer been so grateful for the doorbell. Feeling as though his world had been turned upside down, he went to the front door, finding the Tringham brothers standing in front of it.

"Hello, Fuhrer," Fletcher said, Russell only nodding. "I actually managed to tear my brother away from the city, so I hoped the invitation to the party still stood."

"You know it does." Roy stepped aside and let the two blonds in, mentally reminding himself that the taller brother had at one time been an object of lust for his husband at one point in time. "Of course, I think you only managed to get Russell away from the underground city in order to find out if Wrath is willing to work with you."

There was a grin on the older brother's face. "What can I say? I think the twins are great, but I also know Wrath would be ideal for the research I'm doing."

Roy couldn't begrudge the fact that Russell was honest, even if he was using the twins' birthday as an excuse to get what he wanted.

He led the brothers through the house and out to the party.

"You know, Roy," Ed said in a chastising tone, "if you're going to walk away, don't do it while you're cooking." He smiled when he saw the other blonds. "Hey guys, did you finally drag yourself out of the caves to the real world?"

"Did you finally get out of your lab researching the Gate to throw this party? Or do you have an experiment going on in there," He pointed to the lab at the edge of the yard. "and you're just waiting to pick up with it after the party," Russell joked.

"Fletcher!" The twins yelled in near unison.

Roy looked up to Russell to say something, but the blond cut him off. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to it. Fletcher's better with kids. Not that the twins aren't great, but Fletcher's always been closer to them."

The twins hugged the younger Tringham, gladly taking the presents from him to put with the others.

"You two made it here in time," Ed said before turning to the group of kids and adults. "Food's ready."

A herd of children ran onto the porch, grabbing plates, silverware. Some were so anxious to get food that they even disregarded the fact that Roy was fuhrer as they pushed by him.

"Oh, Aideen, let me help you with that," Phillip bent down and handed her a napkin.

Why did such a simple act, something Alex Armstrong was certain to engrain in the boy he'd raised for the last three years, make Roy want to barricade her away from the entirety of the male population. Was it hypocritical? Of course. But did he care? Hell, no.

Then, the dread that had grasped him years ago when Armstrong had been pursuing Raine reappeared. Because Rose's son had been adopted by Armstrong, _if_ Phillip and Aideen did somehow end up together many, many, many years from now, Roy would actually be related to the overly friendly giant. He visibly shuddered at that thought.

"Well, Wrath," Russell said, leaning over the railing just a bit as he saw the sweaty, muscular brunet approach, "have you made your decision? Will you help us?"

A set of violet eyes looked up at the rather tall blond standing near Roy, then down at the Tringham near his own age standing beside him.

"I would appreciate it, Wrath," Fletcher said. "I could use a buffer down there. Right now, it's mostly me and my brother." The braided head nodded. Fletcher patted him on his bare back. "It will be great to have you there." He rubbed the same hand, mosstlikelly covered in sweat, on his pants, looking a bit disgusted.

0o0o0o0

Frank laced his hand in Kain's, walking down the streets of Central, enjoying as the street lights flickered on, the sky growing darker. Like it or not, there was still a part of Frank that felt strange being able to show affection in public. He was pondering this difference between the worlds as he continued to walk beside the younger man. The next thing Frank knew, he was being pulled into the doorway of a store that was closed for the evening, Kain wrapping his arms around Frank's neck, slowly coaxing the older man's head down.

"You were so great with the kids today. It was so sweet," Kain said, his fingertips gently tickling Frank's neck.

"What can I say? I love those twins." He bent down and nuzzled his head into Kain's neck. "Pretty fond of you too." Kain turned his head, pressing their lips together, Frank moving his hand up to the black locks and holding Kain in place. He opened his mouth to intensify the kiss, feeling the younger man's tongue slipping past his parted lips, his own moving through Kain's, massaging, rolling over one another.

With a shared smile, the two parted, Frank grabbing the smaller man and holding him to his chest, wondering when the last time he'd had this, if he'd ever. He kissed Kain's hair, wanting to thank whatever fate or god had sent him there to the world where he could stand on the street, embracing his boyfriend without shame or fear. With his lips still against the man's head, he smiled.

He had a boyfriend, one who stood up for him on multiple occasions, one whom he trusted. One who made him happy.

And for the first time, he was given the opportunity to get to know someone he cared about outside of sex, something the two were trying to refrain from to let the idea sink into Frank's thick skull that they were a couple, and this wasn't a matter of sex or a one-night stand.

"You know," Frank said, "eventually, we have to get back to our apartment."

There was a groan of protest, Kain pulled back, once again rubbing his slightly calloused hand down Frank's cheek, making Frank almost ask if they could just stay in that doorway the rest of the night.


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: Vixyfox, Yeah, Aideen's growing up. FMA lover912, I tone down love scenes for the sake of rules. At least I can claim I make an effort. I'm also posting this as I re-edit the original. Sometimes I get more done than others. This story will be about 65 chapters when I've got it all posted. I'm writing 64 now. I promise you even though there isn't a sequel per se, I'll post the little additions to the story like I've done on other sites (like prequel, side cookies to the story, and possibly post-fic stuff)._

**Chapter 28 **

_**Encounters **_

_**Three months later**_

Kain woke up, the heavy weight of his taller boyfriend on his chest. The alarm had yet to go off, but as always, Frank was curled protectively over Kain's body. Frank's leg was draped over both of Kain's, his head resting on the younger man's bare chest, a muscular arm tightly embracing Kain's entire body.

He struggled to pull his arm out from the man's grip, a few times nearly giving up until finally, he had his right arm free. He moved a hand up to the black hair that in the mornings jutted up in all directions. The older man's hair was thinning a bit, not something Frank was incredibly pleased with, but Kain didn't care. It wasn't the hair he'd fallen for, it was Frank. He moved his hand again, reaching for his black-rimmed glasses on the bedside table, tired of early morning fuzzy vision.

As he put the glasses on, the alarm on the table began to sound, jerking Frank awake with an almost violent start.

"Hey," Kain said, when the icy blue eyes focused on him.

"Good morning," Frank said, smiling, then kissing Kain on the cheek before shutting off the ringing clock.

Frank sighed, climbing out of the bed. Today wasn't going to be easy on him, and Kain knew it. He reached up and grabbed hold of Frank's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Are you certain you can go through with this?"

"I don't have much choice." Frank began stripping off his pajamas, Kain forgetting for an instant that he needed to do the same while he enjoyed the view. Frank pulled on his boxers, then sat on the bed with a hiss.

"I _did_ hurt you last night," Kain said, inching his way across the bed to put his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"I asked you to," Frank said, resting his head against Kain's for a moment as he pulled his pants on. "Well, not to hurt me, but… well, you were there." Kain draped his arms over Frank's neck. Since they'd decided a few weeks ago to finally become lovers, Kain had bottomed only twice, mostly out of guilt, rather than at the insistence of the older man. Apparently, Frank preferred the pampering and care that went along with being bottom, at least when Kain was top, and the younger man quite honestly enjoyed being in a position of power.

"But really, Frank," Kain said, pulling away from Frank so he could get dressed. "Are you certain you can face them?"

"I've studied all I can on the other Frank, and his parents have just learned their son is still alive. Four months we've stalled. We can't any longer." He patted Kain's cheek. "You need to go and get a shower." Frank had already taken his. It never failed that after those boneless moments happened, Frank would take a shower, rather than lay around messy. If they didn't end up showering together, Kain only cleaned himself up enough to make Frank happy and would go back to bed.

"I'm not going to be far away, if you need me."

"You think that I can't handle myself?" Frank said from within the undershirt he was pulling over his head.

"For support." Kain slid off the bed, going to the bathroom, looking back at his lover, seeing the anxious look on his face. Frank had never gotten to know his father, and it was little wonder that there seemed to be a part of the older man that was looking forward to finally meeting him.

Ed and Al stepped off of the train in Youswell, grateful to be traveling together once again. As fathers, the two didn't get the opportunity to interact as brothers. Getting to talk to Al, Ed was surprised to find out that his brother was considering adopting yet again, even after the struggles he and Winry had gone through with the biological father of Robert, their son. Still, as Ed listened to his not-so-little brother talk about his family, it made the sacrifices worth it.

"Wonder what they'll think now that you're not a giant suit of armor?"

"Mr. Elric!"

Ed winced, fearing, for a moment that he'd been found by another reporter. He turned to find a young man with brown hair, waving excitedly at him.

"You don't recognize me," the young man said. "It's Kyle, Halling's son."

"With the hotel," Ed said, remembering.

"Dad told me to meet you here. He said you're looking for some minerals in the mine. I'm to show you around. I don't think you'll recognize the town." Kyle tried to grab Ed's suitcase.

"You don't have to. I have people waiting on me every time I go somewhere. I can handle myself."

"What about you, Al?"

"I'm okay."

"Really good to see you outside of the armor. Must have been terrible being alchemically stuck in it."

"Heh," Al faintly laughed, that was the best excuse they could use for why he'd traipsed around inside of a suit of armor for so many years.

"So you guys are both parents now. We read about you in the news all the time." Kyle began chattering away. "Did you know that the guy who wrote that terrible article about your daughter showed up here looking for a room at the hotel? Dad threw him out, wouldn't serve him, treated him—"

"Sort of like he did me when I first came here."

"Well, we didn't know there were decent state alchemists out there. But then there's the two of you."

"I'm not officially a state alchemist. I just freelance," Al said.

"Well, you know what I mean."

Ed listened as Kyle droned on, enjoying the time alone with his brother as he hadn't gotten to do for ages, but part of him missing his family. It was one thing to be away for a day or so, but Ed was now at over one week, and it would be more than two before it was said and done.

0o0o0o0

There was a party at school, balloons everywhere, Nicholas sat next to his sister, listening to their new teacher drone on about some idiotic thing or another. The woman hadn't, first of all, learned to listen to the other teachers when they told her the twins needed to be separated. Aideen looked over at him, a warning that after two full weeks with their new teacher, she could take no more. As a part of the party, the teacher was trying to include a quick lesson, discussing the prism of light as she held up one of the decorations, a crystal that created rainbows on the wall behind her.

"Some colors absorb light, while others reflect light. The reason we see colors…"

Nicholas visibly yawned to his sister. He enjoyed going to class with kids his own age, but the simple fact was that he was more capable of teaching it than the woman currently at the front of the classroom.

"But water's blue," one of the children said, apparently in response to something the teacher had said.

"Actually, water reflects the blue of the sky like it does your image when you look into it."

Nicholas looked over at his sister, as though to say, "Do you want to take it or should I?"

Aideen rolled her eyes and raised her hand.

"Miss Mustang."

Aideen stood, taking a deep breath before rattling off the correct answer. "Actually, water is blue. It absorbs red, and reflects blue. The blue is faint, and can only be seen in large quantities, but if you filled a white pool in a white room with no windows, the bottom of the pool would still appear slightly blue."

Aideen sat back down, looking over at Nicholas. He'd taken care to correct most of the incorrect information yesterday, when the woman had insisted that the Isballans worshiped a sun-god similar to Lior, Nicholas having to point out that Ishbal was nowhere near the same as Lior's Leto.

Things went well enough, the party at least giving Nicholas and his sister a break from correcting their teacher, at least until one of the students picked up a balloon and began sucking out the helium to change the sound of their voice. The moment the woman began yelling at the other student, Nicholas knew what was coming and elbowed his sister to point out the truth.

"Inhaling helium ruins your vocal chords. Why do you think it changes your voice?"

"You're actually more in danger of passing out if you inhale it for long periods of time," Aideen said, not even waiting to be called on this time, "since it isn't oxygen. Actually, your voice changes because helium is lighter than traditional air, and your voice vibrates faster in the lighter air, making it sound higher."

There was a look on the teacher's face, one the twins had seen their fair share. It essentially meant their papa was going to be getting a phone call.

0o0o0o0

Frank stood outside of the meeting room, a lump in his throat so big he thought he might not be able to speak. He was going to meet his father, or at least a close approximation of him. Frank could barely remember the man, memories turning the man into images from photos superimposed on giant shadows from a six-year-old perspective. No, he didn't remember much about the man, knowing him more from the stories his mother had told him than actually recalling them himself.

Opening the door, Frank saw a woman who vaguely resembled his mother, though he hadn't seen his mother in years. After a slip-up in the military, they'd told her he was dead, and to save her the grief of knowing he was actually a spy and possibly putting her at risk, he'd left it that way. This woman, despite being years older, looked thinner, more drawn. Perhaps it had been the years of thinking her own son was dead, or the fact that the Frank Archer of this world had not been remembered as a hero.

The man beside her, however, looked incredibly healthy. He wasn't as tall as Frank had expected, considering how large he'd remembered him from his childhood. But everyone looks huge to a six-year-old. Even Ed.

He mentally chided himself for that one. Thoughts like that usually led to him blurting something of the like out in public and got him in major trouble with the short-tempered alchemist.

Drawing himself out of his thoughts and looking at the parents that barring other circumstances would have been his own, he smiled, the mother rushing to him to throw her arms around him, the father staring at him coldly.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you that I was okay, mother," Frank said. "I didn't know you thought I was dead, and I was working on a mission for the country."

"I'm just so glad to have you home." The man at the back cleared his throat. "Oh, I'm sorry, son. I should know better than to gush like that."

Gush?

Frank stepped forward, extending a hand to the man he'd wanted to meet his entire life, only to have it smacked away.

"So, after your name has been drug through the mud by these people," the father said, "multiple times, you would side with them and continue to work for them? What happened to rising to the top? You actually allowed them to bust you down to major?"

"I never rose above major, sir. Now that I am no longer working on classified information, I hope a promotion will be coming soon, but honestly, I am simply happy to do my job."

"You cannot possibly be my son," the man said, scowling. Dear Lord, had he figured it out? "A disappointment to the end. I am ashamed of you. You should have _demanded_ they at least make you a colonel. Now you serve under a man nearly nine years younger than you, and from what I've heard you serve him in many ways."

"First of all, I am quite happy where I am. Happy. As far as Lieutenant Colonel Fuery, he is an excellent officer and I gladly serve under him. Secondly, I do not care if you are my father or if you were the fuhrer himself, you have no right to dictate who I love and who I don't."

"You would disrespect me this way?"

"You disrespect me. Because of that monstrosity that people mistook for me, I have spent months just trying to regain a good name. I have friends who are loyal to me, and have managed to get the fuhrer and his husband to overlook past transgressions. I am working hard to gain honor, respect, all of the things that you so obviously do not understand or you simply disregard. I suggest that if you want me to respect you, you offer me just a modicum of the same." He stepped closer, looking down at the man he'd held such hero worship for as a child. "You may have been capable of intimidating me before, old man, but I will guarantee you that I have met far colder and more vicious than you in my life, and you are nothing more than an annoying pest."

He looked over at the woman who looked at him in fear and disappointment. "Mother, I am sorry you had to witness that, and I want you to know that should you need me, I am always available for you." He patted her on the shoulder before leaving the meeting room, slamming the door behind him and going into the room next door, away from prying eyes.

"Frank," he heard the moment he opened the door, seeing Kain standing there. He'd apparently been listening through the intercom and watching through a two-way mirror.

Frank held a hand up, palm out to stop his lover from approaching. He was angry at the moment and not at Kain. The last thing he wanted was for the lieutenant colonel to think he was. With a quick turn to the wall and a punch that did enough damage he'd need to see an alchemist to repair the cracked plaster, and someone to probably see to his soon-to-be bruised hand, he began cursing, nothing in particular at first. It was just a stream of words at first, connected by incoherent ramblings. Then, as tears, the first he'd shed since Edward, began to fall, he felt Kain's hand on his shoulder.

"I wanted to meet him my whole goddamned life. I wanted to know my father, be raised by him, and if I had…" Frank pounded the wall again, but with less force. "I'd have been that bastard."

"Your father could have been different."

"I don't think he was. The man I met in there was everything my mother described, everything that was always hidden between the lines." Over and over he hit the wall, no longer doing real damage. "All I wanted growing up was to know my father, and that's the son of a bitch I worshipped."

Before Frank knew it, he was being pulled into arms that wrapped around his chest, arms and back, and he felt the cold and unintentional poking of a pair of black-rimmed glasses against his cheek. Nothing was said, just that embrace until the stinging tears ended.

Finally, Kain pulled away, looking up at Frank. "I know you've been through a lot lately, and what I'm about to say is going to make me sound like a girl, but I have to do it." Frank looked at Kain strangely, waiting for this stunning revelation. "But you said you loved me." Kain was grinning, almost stupidly, from ear to ear.

"So what if I did?" Frank said, kissing the smaller man. "It wasn't like I didn't make it obvious before."

"I love you, too." Kain was blushing once again. "I just wanted to say that."

Frank kissed Kain's forehead before pulling away moving to the door. "I think it's time we go back to the office. People might be wondering what we've been doing in here for so long." As his superior officer passed, Frank ignored the need to keep interactions professional as he brushed his hand along the right cheek below those glasses.

0o0o0o0

"I'm rather glad you came, Sir," the redheaded teacher seated at the desk across from Roy said. "I understand you are a very busy man, probably the busiest in the country, but I was pleased that even with your husband away one of the children's parents was able to make it so soon."

"I spoke to the twins before I came in here, and what I'm curious about is exactly what your issue is."

"Well, I feel that perhaps your children need moved up to a more advanced level. I feel they are beyond other children their age."

"You are probably right, but they need the social interaction with children their own age." Roy glanced out the window of the door to the class, seeing a dark and a blond head, as well as two sets of eyes watching intently.

"Sir, they have, over the two weeks I've been teaching them, managed to interrupt me or questioned me nearly five times daily."

"Now, my husband and I have agreed that the children are never to question your authority or to correct you when you give instructions or define something in a way that the other children can more easily understand. However," Roy could feel his official tone coming out, "we _do_ give them right to correct misinformation. If they are questioning what you are teaching that often, I would guess the problem does not lie with my children, but with you. The most recent incidents, I believe, involved two wives tales concerning water and helium. I commend your efforts to stop children from taking down decorations for the sake of a comical voice as well as the fact that they would pass out from lack of oxygen. However, you are in error if you think I will blame my children for pointing out your mistakes.

"And, had it merely been these two simple wives tales, I might forgive the lack of knowledge, but the question is: why you were so intent on teaching, and belittling other religions when you taught them to your class last week. I am an atheist, as is my husband, but we have many friends who practice some of the religions you disparaged. Now, that said, I would like you to know that I've already spoken to the headmaster of the school, and he will be speaking to you the moment I leave."

Roy stood, nodding his head to the teacher and leaving the classroom, Aideen grabbing his hand, Nicholas running excitedly in front of him, backwards.

"You really told her off," Nicholas said, practically jumping through the halls as he moved. "There are definite perks to being the kid of the fuhrer."

"It had nothing to do with who Papa is. Our teacher was an idiot, and totally against religion."

"Aideen, you shouldn't call people idiots," Roy chided. "But her prejudice against religions is less forgivable." Roy had been working so hard to make headway in his people's stubborn prejudices, and he certainly didn't need his children's teacher proclaiming otherwise. "Come on now, why don't we eat at the diner?"

Nicholas practically leaped down the hall as he shouted out something to the effect of "ice cream with chocolate sauce," followed by a list of toppings that seemed to run the gambit of the diner's entire menu.

"Is it okay if I call him an idiot?" Aideen asked, looking up at Roy with those molten lava eyes of hers. "As long as I'm kidding?" Roy moved his hand and squeezed her shoulder in a tiny embrace as they walked out of the building, Nicholas on a pre-sugar high already bouncing inside of the official fuhrer's vehicle.

0o0o0o0

_**Lothian, Scotland**_

Alex Armstrong was black as pitch, tired, but despite the fact that he'd entered the mine before daylight and left it after the sun had set, he was anxious to get to be with his family. He'd been married to Rose for four years now. She'd been widowed only a year after her first marriage, when her husband had been killed in a mining accident. After giving her the proper time to mourn, he was an Armstrong after all and had the honor of a clan with a background in Scottish lore, Alex had pursued his new wife, trying to convince her of what he already knew. They were meant to be together, even if she'd sworn to never again be with a miner.

He walked by his tiny home, one that seemed all the smaller considering his massive size. He waved to Rose inside the home, as she held up their son, only two, while their other son—it didn't matter to Alex that by all rights Phillip wasn't his by birth—ran outside to get some rags for Alex to clean himself with.

"Son," he said, as he got to the tiny yard, "we're nearly out of soap."

The boy nodded, Alex feeling just a bit guilty to know that he was so close to being pulled into the mines himself, even at his young age.

"Alex Armstrong?"

"Aye," he answered, looking to find a man with a syringe, attacking him before he could react, pumping enough of the substance into his veins that he was unconscious immediately, able to signal the oldest boy to go back inside and hide before collapsing into darkness.

"The Thule Society is in need of your services."

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

"We may have to consider having the kids pushed up a grade or two."

"Maybe, but the teacher needed fired." Roy said, listening to his husband's voice on the phone.

"True." Ed had already spoken to the twins earlier in the evening, giving Roy the opportunity to talk to him alone, as an adult to an adult without young interlopers. "So, any word how Wrath's doing down with the Tringhams?"

"They seem to be making progress in the underground city. I spoke to Fletcher today. He's not handling being underground as well as his brother."

"He specializes in plant alchemy. What do you expect? Russell's the one who's gone all research. A plant alchemist several feet underground? Doesn't work."

"Anyway, he said that Wrath and Russell spend a lot of their time arguing or debating, but he said it as though that were a good thing, so I would guess they keep it all friendly. Though he said he'd never heard a pen scratch so hard as when Russell says something that get's Wrath especially upset."

"Good."

"So what are you doing right now?"

"Laying on the bed in my hotel room. Talking to you," Ed said.

"And taking too long to hand his brother the phone so he can talk to his wife." Al's voice could be heard in the background. "So don't get any ideas, you two."

"I guess phone sex is out of the question," Roy said, chuckling.

"I don't think Al would appreciate it. Love you," Ed said.

"Love you, too. And I miss you."

"I'll be home in a few days."

"I'll be waiting."


	29. Chapter 29

_A/N: Sadler, I'm not surprised you like last chapter, as much as you love Frank and Kain._

**Chapter 29 **

_**Conversation **_

_**Two months later **_

_**Vienna, Austria**_

The bishop knew he should feel like a hypocrite, kneeling before God, scars still on his hands from the so-called "miracle" of his youth. Head bowed in the semblance of prayer, a nearly devilish smirk crossed his face. He was actually serving some of the very men who had bought into that ridiculous stigmata story when he was only twelve. They analyzed, researched, but could not find the source of his wounds.

At the time, creating them had seemed the ideal way to get attention. He felt no fear of physical pain, nor did he honestly worry about consequences. But his mother and father, both devout Catholics, his mother Austrian for many generations, his father originally of British blood, had been so earnest in their beliefs, not to mention their conviction that their youngest son was obviously some servant of the devil, that the only way to get "good" attention was something as drastic as wounding his own hands.

Perhaps he had been an agent of the devil. That could only explain the accidental miracles that followed, a train wreck with no injuries, a man with a terminal illness suddenly cured. As a child, he certainly hadn't been the type to give a damn about others. As a matter of fact, he had always seemed to have a strange fascination with fire and flames that went beyond that of his fellow boys. He had the stories that had fascinated him during his childhood, tales of Alexander the Great desiring to know what it was like to burn alive, then watching a man executed merely to satisfy his curiosity on the subject.

There had been a time when the church actively executed in such a manner, and he'd read every gory detail.

Still, those times were gone, and the bishop had denied the blackest part of his nature by indulging in the darker shades of gray. He manipulated others, he had broken his vow of chastity more times than he could count, he had even continued his façade as a man who, as a child, had been touched by God.

He didn't care. He loved the power, the dominance he had over others. And he loved that they honestly believed that he, a sinner beyond anything they told him in petty confessions or private discussions, could save them from or condemn them to eternal damnation.

"Forgive me, Your Excellency," a voice said. The bishop did his best to ignore it. He was supposed to be in prayer, and he wouldn't look like the man who'd become a bishop at the age of forty for his devotion if he looked up. "Your Excellency does not need to keep up appearances here. It is only I and my friends in the cathedral at the moment, and we know that you are hardly the pious man you claim to be."

The Austrian bishop looked up, glancing over the darkly clothed men and women scattered through the church.

"You have a great deal of nerve insulting a man of the cloth, but faithful as I am, I take no offense to it."

"Of course you take offense. You are dying to find out who I am, who I work for so you can unleash your subordinates on me, and I do not speak of priests, Your Excellency." Eyes so pale a brown they could be mistaken for golden flashed at the man. "I know very well of your workings outside of this fair cathedral."

The man had the insolence to grab the bishop's hands, looking over the scars on either side. "They say that you were touched by the Lord, and these markings were proof of it. Strange, though. One would think, as a child of God, he would have healed you." There was a smile on the man's face. "I won't question how you made them, but I should inform you that the proper way to crucify someone is on their wrists. The flesh and muscle at the hand tears so easily."

"Who are you?"

"A devoted servant to the Thule Society, and we need your service, Your Excellency."

"Enough the with the Your Excellency bullshit," a woman said from the back. "He's not going to be addressed that way by any of us."

"I'm afraid she's right. At best, you could call us pagans, so when you come with us, and you will, you will get no respect for your title or false miracle, Herr Kimblee."

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Ed walked into Roy's officer, carrying a report, reminiscing on the times he'd done this when he was younger. Looking down at the stack of papers in his hand, he considered that this report was probably more detailed than the ones from his travels with Al.

Roy was going over documents with several of his most trusted soldiers, essentially those from his inner circle with the addition of Frank, Armstrong, Maria Ross, Danny Broch, and Shezka. Al, as a freelancer couldn't be included, but Ed was a different story.

"You're late."

"Your son's sick with the flu, and I had to wait for your sister to come and check him out and stay with him. Deal with it." Ed tucked the folder under his arm.

"I've asked you all here because the fact is that the Gate is still a concern for the country. I know that Frank, you and Wrath have assured me they don't have the alchemic power to open it on the other side, they could at any time. As a group, as the only ones that know the full story, we need to develop emergency plans and strategies, and Ed, I'd like you to work with Al and General Armstrong to try to come up with a new method of blocking the thing. I don't want to risk the city or the country."

For some time, those involved worked together, separating into groups of those who knew alchemy and those who didn't, Frank having to alternate between the two as the only one present with knowledge of the other side and its weapons.

Seated next to Roy, Ed found himself in an uncomfortable position, as Roy seemed to be getting revenge for the week before. At the time, Ed had made a midday visit to his husband, Roy having forced him into it with yet another wake-up blowjob, saying he'd only finish if Ed promised to return the favor at work that day. Ed had, with Roy still seated at his desk, and had continued from the cover of the large piece of furniture even when the prime minister barged in demanding a meeting with Roy. That had been exciting as hell for Ed, but for his husband, it had been somewhat unnerving, to say the least.

So, now, as they sat at a long table, side by side, Roy's hand would not move from Ed's thigh and crotch, rubbing and massaging, making Ed uncomfortably hard, and threatening to have the blond making a mess of his pants if it continued. In return, Ed rubbed the most sensitive areas on his husband's body as often as he could, while continuing to work at determining a method to prevent the Gate from opening again. Though he felt certain he could do it if there was someone on the other side to close it, operating just from Amestris didn't offer any prospects of a permanent solution.

Fortunately for Ed, the first of the weekly shipment of documents arrived from Wrath and the Tringhams from the city below, and there was an excuse for him to move away from his husband, with caution not to have his arousal seen, and look through the first of what had been delivered.

Mentally, Ed made a note that if Roy wanted to play games, he'd find an opportunity to up the ante.

0o0o0o0

"I'm going to leave the two of you alone," Fletcher said, gathering a stack of books to send with the troops to the surface. He looked up at his brother and Wrath. "Don't kill one another."

"Please," Russell said, looking through a rather extensive library in the largest mansion in the underground city. "You'd think that _you_ were the older brother."

Wrath began scribbling on his notepad. _We'll be fine, Fletcher._

Fletcher left with a stack of books and papers to send to the troops waiting at the surface, Russell shaking his head as he picked up a book from the shelf, flipped through it, apparently finding nothing of interest. Already, they had found numerous alchemic texts, as well as some writing in the margins of novels, and Wrath had a sneaking suspicion who had written in them.

"I swear, what does he think we're going to do?" Russell asked, pushing those long, shaggy bangs out of his face. Wrath didn't understand why the man wore his hair that way. Wrath's was long and braided, but at least he was capable of pulling it out of his eyes. Russell always seemed to be jerking his head to toss the hair out of his vision or brushing it aside with his hands.

Wrath simply rolled his eyes at the lack of common sense in the blond had, pulling a thin, black leather-bound book, The book was hundreds of years old like the rest, but when Wrath opened it to find it was a journal, not any journal, but that of Hohenheim of Light.

_May 8, _

_William is still furious at me. He is angry that I tried to bring him back, that what he is really is not my William, but rather a furious, jealous version of himself. Dante is attached to the young homunculus, seeming to get an inordinate amount of pleasure at watching him learn his shapeshifting skills… and attempt to attack me. _

_Some of William's anger comes from the fact that he does not possess a soul. If there is anything I am grateful for, it is that he is nearly an adult, in this form, and is capable of explaining that to me, when he isn't cursing me for one reason or another. _

_I have learned, through study that there has been one case of a homunculus in possession of its own soul, when said being managed to overcome anger and the more negative emotions that drove it to understand more, become more than a creature based off of the sin of its creator. _

_I tried to explain this to Dante, but all it has done is given her a new nickname for our recreated son, calling him Envy, as that seems to be the so-called sin that he displays most often. That name does not seem to be helping matters any. Part of me wishes that I could take Envy away from her, but as he remains so hateful toward me, that seems a futile hope. There is another part that simply wishes to leave them both behind and start my own life._

"Wrath!" The dark-haired man looked down at Russell, who was kneeling not far from him. "I've been trying to get your attention for ages. What is it?"

Wrath handed the book to Russell, who flipped through the pages, seeing the reason for Wrath's interest.

"That explains a lot about you, doesn't it?" Wrath reached out for the book, only to watch Russell carrying it over to the desk. "Really Wrath, after I'm done with it, I'll let you read it, but if there's something to be learned from this, I should be the one looking at it. I can explain with words. You have to write an essay."

Wrath scowled at him. He might have related better to the older brother than the younger, but it didn't make Russell any easier to deal with.

"Glare all you want. You're great at research, but conveying information takes just a bit of time."

_Screw you._

"Oh, very nice. We've gone to writing juvenile insults."

_You can make fun of me all you want, but you just make yourself sound petty when you do it._

"Really?"

_You have no idea what I've been through._

"You're right. I grew up without my mother or father, watched countless people die, and knew I was responsible for them because of my work with the red water."

_I watched my boyfriend—_

"Ex-boyfriend."

_First of all, let me finish._

"You want to finish, then talk."

_He wasn't my ex._

"All but. You've told, or should I say you've written about him often enough. He didn't argue with you, wouldn't debate with you. You love to debate. Either that or you like scribbling angered remarks and smacking the paper like some monkey." Again Wrath scowled. "You started picking fights with him just to make yourself angrier at him. He was your ex."

_He wasn't!_

"He was. It was a bad match once you got older and came more into your own." Russell stood and looked Wrath in the eyes, something he was far more capable of than most. "With the initial shock, I believe you couldn't talk initially. But now, I think you _can_ talk. And I think the only reason you haven't been is because the last things you said to Edward were cruel. It isn't that you can't talk anymore. I think now it's a matter of not wanting to."

_You think I want to scribble all the time?_

"Writing takes more time, more thought. Words don't fly on their own without taking into account how they will be received." By now Russell was poking Wrath in the chest.

Wrath pushed the blond away, not wanting to hurt him, but feeling certain he would if the older man continued to provoke him. At that thought, Russell took away the notebook, tossing it aside.

"Now, you're going to listen to me, no scribbling, no tapping at a pad of paper. You can't accept that you were going to dump your very first love, fine. But I'm sick and tired of dealing with a fake mute.

"I've heard you make noises in your sleep, Wrath. Your voice is back. It's just you now that needs to figure out how to use it and come to terms with the fact that you stopped loving Edward long before you left Germany."

"I never stopped loving him!" Wrath pushed Russell to the ground.

"And there it is." Russell smiled, almost smugly up at Wrath, who was cupping a hand over his mouth in shock at the raspy voice that had escaped his own throat.

"Is that—" Wrath cleared his throat. "Is that what this was about? To… get me to… talk."

"Part of it." Russell slowly stood up, dusting off his blue jeans. "But you do need to accept why you were fighting with Edward before you left Germany. Or you're never going to be able to move on or forgive yourself."

0o0o0o0

_**Munich, Germany**_

Alex Armstrong blinked a few times when the hooded men who'd been keeping him prisoner brought in yet another man into his holding area. The last one was still unconscious, but this one surprised the former miner more than he could say. Still dressed in the robes of a bishop, the man was left inside to sit on the somewhat comfortable chaise.

He muttered something in a foreign language. Alex didn't understand him, not that he'd understood much of anything since he'd been captured.

"Do you understand English?" Alex asked, grateful at least to have someone to talk to, since the drugs they regularly gave him only weakened his body.

"Enough," the bishop said. "How long you here?"

"Four months."

"What they have you do?"

"Study. Most of it's just gibberish."

"Gibberish?"

"It makes no sense."

"It's called alchemy," a deep voice said in a British accent.

The bishop looked up at Roy Mustang, a spy who was infiltrating the group for the sake of learning more of the nonsense they were trying to force into Alex's head. The large Scot didn't exactly appreciate that a Brit was aiding his captors.

"You are English," the bishop said.

"And you are Austrian." Roy bowed slightly to the dark-haired man of the cloth. "I am truly sorry that you have gotten caught up in this."

"Why alchemy? It was… impossible… the church opposed it." The foreign man was struggling to find his words, but doing remarkably well for being drugged.

"But it is where our chemistry comes from," Roy said. "And in this place, alchemy is possible."

"And you serve them?"

"I am a spy, Your Excellency. But they give me instructions to teach those they bring in."

"Does spy not need to stay secret?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are Roy Mustang I heard spoken of. You are known to them." The man chuckled almost malevolently, making Alex, a Catholic himself, wonder if this man truly was a man of God. "I am to be taught by fool."

"I am not a fool," Roy said.

"You staying helps them. And they stop all letters to government. You are not spying. Longer you stay, better for them." The bishop's strange eyes watched the Brit intently.

"You don't know how this world works."

"I know how world works just fine." He gestured to himself. "This means nothing. I break vows long ago. I am not saint. How many have you killed? I lost count."

"Killed? But you serve God," Alex said.

"I serve myself."

"Oh, bloody 'ell," groaned the man still unconscious on one of the beds.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," Roy said.

"I don't know you lot," the man again groaned in a definitively cockney accent, "but would you shut your bleedin' traps?" The man blinked a few times. "Where are my glasses? I paid a fortune for them."

"On the top of your head," Alex responded.

The man slowly sat up, pulling the glasses down to look around him. "Am I still drunk?"

"No, Mr. Tucker, you're not," Roy answered.

"Well, can we do something about that?"

"No."

"Why would you get yourself in such a state?" Alex asked.

"He's trying to forget his wife and daughter," Roy answered.

"Bugger off. Do you have a family?"

"A wife and two sons."

"Well, 'ow would you react to finding them dead after someone robbed your house? Piss off."

"What do they want?" the bishop asked.

"Well, they want you to get out of that robe, first of all," Roy said, eyeing the golden-eyed man. "And then they want you to study. They think all of you have a natural talent at their kind of alchemy."

"As you must. It is why you stay. Why you 'teach' us." The bishop seemed to be taking a particularly antagonistic approach.

"Your Excellence," Alex began, trying to warn the man not to push his only hope at seeing his family again.

"Zolf Kimblee," the bishop corrected. "If I must wear clothes of normal man, call me name of normal man."

"Mr. Kimblee, please, do not anger him. He's the only connection I have to my family."

"He has no connection to anyone." He looked up at Roy. "I said I heard them talk. They know who you are. They are stopping your contact."

"I am afraid that is the truth," the woman, the leader said in English, stepping behind Roy. "And I have no need to keep up pretenses any longer, Herr Mustang. We need you to be a good little alchemist and learn all you can. Or we might just have to pay a visit to your family. I have on good account that your sons would both probably possess some talent as well."

With a smile so cold it chilled the Scot's bones, she shut the door behind her.

"Fool," the bishop repeated.


	30. Chapter 30

_A/N: __**iluvEdo**__: Glad you're caught up. Thank you so much. __**Bar-Ohki**__: Thank you __**lioness78**__: Glad you're caught up too. I'm giving nothing away when it comes to Wrath. If you liked Roy and Ed making one another uncomfortable, Ed takes it up a notch this chapter. __**FMA lover912**__: Yes, Dante is truly evil. Thank you. Shine Lumiere: It must be strange seeing these and waiting for the last chapter on lj. And let me guess, Ed upping the ante is your fav part. __**Sadler**__: Yeah, I know how much you love these parts._

_And __**dhh**__: I doubt you're reading this, but I know Aideen seems to get more attention. She is good at what she does, but it doesn't make her perfect. Nicholas will get his share and find his own skill area. Taking into consideration that Nicholas could use at least one more part, I added a piece to chapter 11, not major to the plot. I responded to you already, and again, I say that if you dislike Aideen so much that you'll only read if I kill her off, then you obviously don't trust me with my own plot or character—and there is a reason for why she is this way. While I appreciate constructive criticism and critique, I didn't feel that really was what your comment was. It was just criticism and a threat to stop reading unless I did what you wanted me to do._

_Also, to all of my reviewers, I'm still learning the review response etiquette for so if you can let me know in your reviews whether you prefer me to respond here or do it individually through the replies, let me know._

**Chapter 30 **

_**Coming to Terms**_

"You made him start. You go comfort him," Fletcher said with a push to Russell's back.

"But you're better with this stuff."

"And I'm not the one he relates to." Fletcher opened the curtain to the balcony where Wrath was sitting, sobbing. "Go."

For the last hour, Wrath had been crying to himself, hiding from the brothers, but apparently, Fletcher couldn't take it any longer. The taller blond stepped out onto the questionable balcony, noticing that if it crumbled, as it looked like it might at any moment, there would be a three-story fall in his future. Russell's thick, rubber-soled boots padded across the stone, where he knelt down beside Wrath.

There were so many things about the brunet that confused Russell, first of all being the drastic swings in maturity. One moment, Wrath was obviously more sensible than most three or four times his age, and the next, he was throwing a tantrum like a toddler. Russell had expected Wrath to cry, to hate the realization that he was breaking things off with Edward, and that was the real reason behind all of the arguments. What he hadn't expected was to find the six-foot nine-inch man sitting on the floor of the balcony, long legs drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, eyes pressed in his knees.

"Wrath," Russell said, wrapping an arm around the broad shoulders, not entirely sure how to do this. Damn Fletcher, this wasn't his area. Gently, he ran his hand over the now-loose braids, rubbing over the strange, coarse black hair, finding the texture very odd beneath his touch. When a set of violet eyes looked up from those knees, lit only by the lantern Wrath had brought out with him, Russell could see how red the outsides were, how swollen those eyes were.

"I'm sorry," Russell said, feeling overcome with guilt for being the cause of this. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Wrath shook his head. "No. It was the truth."

"It doesn't make it any easier, but at least you can admit that now."

"I still love him, though." Wrath sighed, an involuntary hiccup-like sob escaping his lips. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"I broke up with my first a long time ago, Wrath." How long had it been since Russell thought about that year-long relationship when he was eighteen. "And we didn't end up as friends, but it doesn't mean I don't still care." He patted Wrath's back. "Just because you and Edward might have been breaking up, still being in love with him is perfectly natural. A very _human_ thing."

For some time they sat in silence, Russell's arm around the younger man's shoulders, the initial, hard crying having stopped, left behind by those sniffles and sobs that Russell hated as much as crying. He'd seen plenty of men full-out cry, but those sniffs and heaving chests just seemed girly.

Well, they had until the strong figure of the former homunculus was the one doing it. Now he hated them just as much for a different reason. They remained almost painful for ages, showing just how long and how intensely Wrath had been crying, out on the balcony alone.

"It will get better. I promise."

0o0o0o0

The phone was ringing. Why was the phone ringing?

Ed slowly opened his eyes, feeling Roy pull away from him, a somewhat difficult feat, as dried remnants from a very long and exhausting night were covering both their bodies. It was rare that they fell asleep, completely spent without any regard for cleaning themselves or their bed off, but they had been thoroughly exhausted when they'd gone to bed last night, well that morning. Looking at the clock, Ed further corrected that. Two hours ago that morning.

Roy essentially crawled to the ringing phone, groaning in disgust as he hit a wet spot on the bed.

"Hello?" Ed's husband said, groggily. He was still on all fours, his behind facing Ed, and even in the early morning haze, the blond thought the view was rather nice. Adding to the view was the fact that Roy was trying to straddle the mess he'd made on the bed last night, so his legs were spread just so…

And as he continued to rally, a perfectly devilish idea came to mind. Ed still owed Roy revenge for the groping during the meeting with nearly every one of their friends.

"Yes, Mrs. Polce," Roy said, "I understand your concern."

Once Ed realized it was the member of parliament Ed hated most, he really lost all regard for allowing his husband to be professional. Ed despised the woman, and she certainly had no business calling _his_ home at six in the morning. He had children, damn it, who didn't have to be up for school for another hour and a half to be woken up by a ringing phone at a ridiculous hour of the morning. Then, he glared at his very naked husband, who was not ending the call.

Slowly, Ed shifted to sit upright at the head of the bed, only a few inches away from Roy, his right hand grabbing for jar of lube from the night before. He stuck his first two fingers in the substance, his own member twitching as he heard his husband say the obligatory "Uh-huh's and Okays and Yeahs" on the phone. Once he felt certain he had the stuff thoroughly smeared on his fingers, he moved his index finger to the somewhat parted cheeks, rubbing up and down the crack of his husband's lovely behind, earning a rather angry glare from the fuhrer.

"Ed!" he hissed, holding the receiver to his bare shoulder, then picking it back up again. "Yes, Mrs. Polce. I understand."

Well, he'd hoped to startle Roy, but so far, it didn't seem to be working, so he turned to his husband in earnest this time. He circled around the already sensitive—thanks to last nights hours-long activities—opening. Roy, whose head was turned to look behind him, was trying to remain calm and stoic in his voice while his eyes seemed to show a desire to kill Ed where he sat.

"Where I stand in reference to the work on the strange happenings in Central's sky is…" Ed pushed the single digit in. "nngh… that our… our alchemists and researchers are… doing their best…" Ed continued to wiggle his finger around the hole that was still relatively loose, deciding that he might as well go for the second finger if Roy was going to stay on the phone like that. "Do we really need to talk about this no-ah-ow?"

It was a little late to be asking that question. He should have told her to go take a flying leap the minute she'd called. Ed worked his fingers in slowly, Roy shooting daggers over his shoulder as he continued to talk.

"Right…" Just a little more. "Uh-huh. I understand your worry…" A bit farther, then just to curl them. "YESSSS. Of course." Roy's hips bucked, his back arched as Ed hit his prostate. Those fingers that Ed was certain Roy wanted to break began scissoring, widening Roy, letting the older man know exactly what was to come if he didn't get off the phone. Much to Ed's surprise, as Roy continued a mindless conversation with a mindless woman, his body was now bucking on Ed's fingers. If that was what he wanted, and he felt up to another go, Ed would go right ahead.

He removed the fingers, Roy practically burying his head on the mattress as he tried to prop the phone between his head and shoulder. Roy was no longer fighting the game, and it excited and disappointed Ed all at once. Ed pulled Roy's behind down just a bit, his mind cursing the longer, pale legs that made it hard for Ed to reach. With his left hand, he slicked up his length and pressed the tip to the familiar body in front of him.

"Y-yes, ma'am. I assure you the work has not stopped, b-but we…" Ed began to push in. "we… have the assurances… oh… of experts that it won't happen fu—for a long time." He continued to move, glad that coherent sentences were a struggle, but he didn't like that Roy's brain was still capable of retrieving words like "assurances" from its memory.

"Mrs. Polce," Roy said just a bit too loud, as Ed pushed himself entirely into his body, "This is much t-too early…" Ed began kissing Roy's lightly scarred shoulders and back, enjoying they were nearly flawless, rather than entirely so. "If you would li-eee-ke to talk at a better time…" Ed pulled out almost entirely, then pushed in, moving his hips side to side, just a bit. "I would be glad to do-oh-oh so."

Finally, Ed grabbed the phone from Roy, "What he's trying to say is that I want to screw him senseless, it's early, and he can talk to you in the office." With a quick thrust, Ed pushed himself back inside of Roy, now able to reach the base of the phone to hang it up.

"Ed, do you have any idea what you did?"

"Got you…" He moved out. "off the phone." He began kissing Roy's back as he slowly re-entered. "And if you…nngh… really wanted me to stop…" Ed began working his way to a steady rhythm. "you could have sat down."

Ed firmly gripped Roy's hips in place, as the older man seemed to have forgotten about being angry and was lost to the sensation. Ed slowly rocked his body, moving faster, harder within the man he loved. No longer caring if Roy helped move things along, Ed shifted his body and wrapped his right arm around Roy's chest, pulling their bodies together, his left reaching down and grasping hold of Roy's member, which was practically flush against Roy's firm stomach. The blond knew it wouldn't take much, if the older man was already in this state.

Harder and harder, further and further he pressed into Roy, repeating words of love into the flesh of the older man's back, while the body of the nation's leader beneath him bucked and thrust along with him.

Almost violently, Roy came, hands fisting the sheet and his arms, but Ed wasn't quite there, but with a few quick thrusts, he found himself being pulled into his own climax, screaming out Roy's name before his body slumped against the larger one beneath him.

"Fine, you got your revenge for groping you around our friends, and I've already learned my lesson about using morning sex against you, but damn it, Ed, how am I supposed to face that woman today?"

"With your head held high, and I'm guessing, a limp in your step."

Roy groaned.

0o0o0o0

_**Munich, Germany**_

Delegated to merely studying like the rest, Major Mustang looked around him. The bishop, Kimblee—he couldn't begin to address him as mister or even by his first name—seemed to take incredible pleasure in antagonizing him, as did that witch Eckart. The Scot seemed to have lost all hope, as he'd been here the longest and had thought messages were getting through to his family.

Roy had thought the same.

Putting his head in his hands for a moment, ignoring the droning voice of one of the society members, Roy thought how worried Riza had to be, how his sons had to be. He'd thought he'd been sending them letters, treats from Germany, but there was no guaranteeing any of them had been received. He'd been caught, as he never had before. He'd thought he was too good to be caught, to skilled. After all, how many times had Major Archer been captured? How many times had he failed or been mentally even physically scarred?

The realization was hard to take. Major Archer had been protecting him, always taking the more dangerous, less certain tasks for himself because he was not the one with a family, even a love interest on the horizon.

Roy's hubris had been his downfall, his lack of acknowledgement of advice from someone with more experience at the spy game—not wire-tapping and code cracking, as Roy had spent much of his career doing—his belief that the Thules were truly idiots, delusional to believe that such a place as Shamballa or even something like alchemy could truly exist.

No, he'd learned the truth. He was trapped now with a good-natures Scot, whose hope at seeing his family had all but vanished and whose faith was being tested by every minute around the bastard bishop, said bastard bishop, whose English comprehension was incredible when it came to insulting the major, and a half-literate cockney man who was still so devastated over the murder of his family ten years ago that he barely functioned.

Worst of all, was the realization that everything the Thules had told him was true. He'd felt the power in the main chamber, where the serpent was attached to the ceiling. But when they'd brought the four of their captives—as he was now one of them—into the chamber, it was obvious the power was more intense.

His only prayers now were that God kill them all before something terrible happened to his world, even possibly to the one he'd been told was on the other side of the "Gate."

The droning stopped. They were being told once again to go out into the chamber, to see if any had learned even the basics of alchemy well enough to perform a bit for their captors.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

Later that day, Wrath was feeling somewhat better, wandering through the streets of the town, feeling lighter, somehow.

He could hear the Tringhams behind him; apparently they'd finished sending word to Ed and everyone else above that they wanted to meet over dinner, to discuss their findings, as well as reveal Wrath's voice—though they were keeping that to themselves until dinner that night.

Looking at these old buildings, Wrath could just hear what Edward would have thought. The blond had always had an interest in architecture, one he probably would have pursued if he hadn't been so interested in chemistry and rocket science. And at that, Wrath smiled. It had been a long time since Wrath had smiled when thinking about Edward. Standing near a building that so resembled the one where Edward had been serving his apprenticeship, he remembered the stink bombs the teenaged version of his lover had created.

They had been friends then. And if Edward had lived, he was the type that, Wrath was sure, they would have been friends regardless. It was just…

Wrath sighed. Russell was right.

It was just that once Wrath reached adulthood, they were a poor match. Wrath loved Edward for his kindness and intelligence, but he needed someone who he didn't feel as though he had to walk on eggshells around.

It wasn't long before Wrath reached a more barren area of the town, a place he'd been to before without really considering it, when a sudden power, one Wrath hadn't felt since Munich froze him in his spot, his body once again beginning to perform alchemy on its own.

"Wrath!" two voices said in near unison.

He could feel the power coursing through his body, and really, he knew he had to be a sight to behold. He could see the brothers, both struggling against the sudden increase in power at this spot, Russell finally making it to Wrath, smacking him across the face. The shock of the pain brought the former homunculus around, and with Russell pulling his body from merging with the cobblestone streets, he made it away from the area.

A little more coherent, Wrath considered he'd preferred Edward's way of bringing him back to reality to Russell's, but it had worked all the same. As he collapsed to the ground, still reeling from the sensation of that much power in one spot, Fletcher put his around him, always the considerate brother.

"Are you okay?" Russell asked, crouching down next to him.

"The power…"

"I noticed that." Russell patted Wrath's back a moment.

"It was like Munich. I think this is our link to their world."

"But wouldn't we have felt it before? Fletcher asked.

"I think they're trying to get through again."

0o0o0o0

"Fuhrer, sir?"

Roy looked up from his desk, finding Frank standing at the door. "Yes, come in."

Frank did, shutting the door behind him. Though Frank had taken a while to get over the shock of his father's true personality, he seemed happy in his life and his relationship with Fuery.

"Um, sir, I couldn't help but notice that you were sporting a bit of a limp this morning." Roy looked up at him awkwardly. "You should be more careful sparring with Ed." There was an undertone to Frank's voice that let Roy know that he knew exactly what he'd been doing with Ed.

Frank set a small can on Roy's desk, which he immediately picked up to analyze. It looked like pomade.

"It's very similar to something I discovered on Earth. It's a salve, very good for numbing and healing sore muscles and aches and pains. I've used it quite a few times since I got here."

There was a knowing expression on his face. It was not particularly unknown that Frank bottomed quite a bit, but come to think of it, Roy hadn't noticed the tell-tale limp.

"Thank you."

Frank nodded. "Using it before your meeting with that obnoxious woman from parliament might be wise. I spoke to her secretary, and apparently, the woman is still in a mix of shock and denial. I don't know why anyone would be surprised. You are married to a very active twenty-seven-year-old. Though, I notice they don't seem as shocked when Ed is limping."

"That's one of his biggest complaints," Roy said, feeling there was no longer the need to pretend they weren't talking about exactly what they were talking about. "He says it's as though it's expected. We've had some heated discussions about that one." Roy shifted in his seat, wincing a bit.

"I can imagine." Frank folded his arms across his chest. "Any idea why the Tringhams and Wrath said they wanted to meet with everyone over dinner?"

Roy shook his head. "But apparently since they invited everyone, there's been a new development. It seems the city below us is essentially the same as the chamber where you came from."

He could see the concern on Frank's face.

"But if we know where it is, we know the most concentrated place to place new blockers. We had them scattered through the city before. Now, we can put them at the source."

"If there is anything I can do, please, let me know."

"I will."

Because the twins, not to mention Al, Armstrong, and Havoc's kids were there, the discussion had to stay light and off the topic on all of the adults' minds, but honestly, Ed wanted to find out what the Tringhams and Wrath knew.

Together with Rose, Gracia and Al, Ed had prepared the meal, being relegated to the items cooked on the stovetop, including the carrots and the mashed potatoes, with Rose's help, while Al had done the turkeys and Gracia the desserts. On moments like this, Ed was reminded that once again he was taking the "wife's" role in the relationship, but at least he was with another man. It felt somewhat less emasculating to know his baby brother often did the same tasks, but was married to Winry. On good days, he decided that meant those jobs weren't part of the "wifely" role, and on bad days, he at least felt a step more manly than Al.

"Ed, could you pass the potatoes?"

"Sure." Then, as the realization hit Ed who exactly had asked for the things, he nearly dropped the potatoes on the floor. "Holy shit! You're talking."

With a smile, Wrath nodded.

"Say something else," Nicholas said, excitedly from the children's table in the hallway.

"What would you like to hear?" Wrath asked.

"You really _can_ talk."

Listening to the former mute say his first words to the group began discussions just to get him to talk. Thankfully, their amusement lasted long enough that the children soon grew bored and went into the study to play, while the adults scattered around the library, discussing what they knew, finally able to discuss what the meeting really was about.

It was more than a little disturbing to find that the people on the other side were once again trying, as though someone with more knowledge than they really should have had on that side was helping them. The only person Ed could think of was his father, but much of a bastard as he thought the man was, he couldn't imagine he would knowingly put his family and their world in danger, and according to Frank, the Thules were receiving information when there was no way Hohenheim could have been a party to it.

At least he hoped not.

0o0o0o0

_**Glasgow, Scotland**_

"Any luck?" Noa asked.

"None," Hohenheim said. "I've been searching records for another center of power, and I've had no luck. Perhaps it is the only one, or at least, it seems to be the only one that's been explored for that purpose."

"Well, Father," she said with a smile, "shall we go into town?"

"Of course, Daughter." Hohenheim looked over at the gypsy, pleased to see how much the young woman had healed over the last few weeks. She had been held in captivity, but had, of all people, Eckart to thank for the fact that nothing else had happened to her, as the older woman felt that by keeping Noa "pure" it would make her powers stronger. "So, has that young MacMillan been here to visit lately?"

Noa, tilted her head down a bit, a red color coming to her cheeks.

"So he has. I know you two hardly know one another, but have you considered the fact that he seems to be courting you?"

Again, she blushed.

"If anything comes of it, or if another young man begins to pursue you, I would hope you would take them up on their offer if you think you can be happy with them."

"But our work…"

"You've spent long enough doing work for others." He offered her his arm and patted her gloved hand. "As a matter of fact, I'm considering just settling into my life here. It's selfish of me to want to go home."

He didn't add that once again, the rotting had begun; it had been reversed with the passage through the gate, but it was back and proceeding faster than it had when it started in Risembool. He doubted he had more than ten years left, but he couldn't complain. Ten years compared to four hundred was just a drop in the bucket.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

It was late, the twins asleep and the guests gone when Roy watched as Ed collapsed into the diningroom chair, wrapping his arms around the broom he'd been using, and resting his head against the handle.

"Ed?" Roy said, tucking the rag he'd wiped the table off with in his back pocket. "Are you okay?"

"Do we have any right to pretend we can be normal, Roy?"

The older man didn't like the sound of resignation in his husband's voice. "What do you mean?"

"I mean today, when we were… making love, having sex, one-upping one another, whatever, that was time I could have been researching the Gate. I could have been testing new blocks."

"Ed, first of all, you can't research and experiment all the time, though you try." Roy grabbed a chair and sat on it backwards, legs straddling the back, head resting on his arms that draped over the top. "I mean, if I didn't know that it was just the way you are, I'd be highly insulted at the fact that in the middle of sex last week, you insisted on pulling out a notebook. Somewhere an array struck you, and you couldn't wait until we were done to finish it." Roy toyed with the golden braid. "Everyone needs a break, and besides, Ed, was there ever a time we thought our lives were normal?"

Roy moved his hand beneath Ed's hair, rubbing circles along the younger man's back.

"We can all figure this out together, Ed. Don't put the weight of two worlds on your back. There are plenty of us who can share that burden with you."


	31. Chapter 31

_A/N: **lioness78**, yep, Ed wins._

**Chapter 31 **

_**Phone Calls and Letters **_

_**Seven months later**_

Aideen and Nicholas were both crying, hell they all were as they dug the tiny grave at the rear of the yard. The cat had been the family's, but Carlida had been Ed's more than anyone's, save for Black Hayate, who hadn't moved from the floor of the study where Carlida had just suddenly died the night before.

She was old, though not ancient, only a few months older than the twins, but eleven for a cat is a pretty good, long life, Ed supposed, but damn it, this still sucked. He'd liked this cat; she'd had character. She'd scratched Frank Archer (the asshole one) after he'd kissed Roy and threatened her. A cat that good deserved immortality, not a tiny little casket of Ed and Aideen's making—she'd refused to cry until it was done—not a hole in the ground that Nicholas and Roy had dug, and definitely not to die. But much as he regretted that calico with a purr like a large motor was gone, he'd long since learned his lesson, and had once again reiterated the taboos of resurrection alchemy to the twins, afraid they might have inherited far too many of his genes.

Silently, Ed placed a hand to the small of Aideen's back, using it to turn her away from the mound of dirt, Roy doing the same to Nicholas. Much to Ed's surprise, Aideen's tears grew as she was pulled away from the cat's little grave, and she turned and threw her arms around Ed, sobbing loudly.

Death was a relatively new concept for the twins, and he soon found that Nicholas was doing the same, one arm around Aideen, his face buried on Ed's other shoulder.

Of course, there was also the realization that, as Al and Winry were once again spending a week with Auntie Pinako, it was likely this concept would be revisited soon, and that thought, even more than the cat he'd used as a pillow on multiple occasions, made him feel cold, even as Roy hugged the children and kissed Ed's forehead.

0o0o0o0

Wrath sat next to Fletcher, inside of the home where the three men had taken up residence below Central, eating a meal sent down by Gracia Havoc. Really, if Wrath had been straight, he might have had to fight her husband for her because she was a Godsend. She always seemed to be sending treats and food down to them to make sure they ate properly, being three bachelors more or less "roughing it."

Sitting across the table from Russell, he couldn't help but stare at the older man that he still knew so little about, despite the fact that the older brother insisted on asking questions of him all the time.

"Russell," Fletcher said, "I'm going to slip up to the surface tonight, see how Aideen is doing and make the deal to start teaching her plant alchemy."

"Sounds good. Poor kids lost their pet yesterday."

Aideen had shown an interest in plant alchemy the last time Fletcher had visited. She'd already been learning medical alchemy, which was based on similar concepts, if through slightly different means. Even with Ed's experience, he couldn't properly perform all of the transmutations Fletcher could. It finally gave Wrath something in common with the young man near his age, as both had found a niche in alchemy where Ed couldn't manage to overshadow them. Though as Aideen was pursuing Fletcher for lessons, Nicholas was doing the same for Wrath, trying to find out how the former homunculus managed to incorporate non-biological elements into his system without causing permanent damage, and still be able to separate those elements from his body.

Wrath honestly had no idea. There was the possibility that, along with Ed's limbs that allowed him the ability to perform alchemy, he had carried through the stones that had completed his transformation into a homunculus. It was also possible that because his body had always been capable of it, that maybe it knew how to perform this alchemy on instinct.

Regardless, Wrath considered that he would be a poor teacher at best.

"Well, Wrath, I guess you'll have to figure out how to entertain yourself," Russell said, picking up a chicken wing.

"Do you have plans?" Fletcher asked, poking at his fruit salad with his fork.

"Do you think I'd just let you go without a complaint if I didn't."

This was true; Russell was overly obsessed with the research they were doing in the city, and it was highly unlikely that he would just willingly give up.

"I guess we'll have to let the guards know that we're not going to be here," Wrath said, honestly a bit curious where the older blond was headed. Russell had next to no life, so the former homunculus really wanted to know exactly what could deter him from research, even for just a night. "I think I'm done here," he said, rising from the table, grabbing a wax paper bag of beef jerky, a gift from Jean Havoc, who knew he liked the stuff, especially surprising since it was the brigadier general who made it. Okay, maybe he wouldn't fight the guy for Gracia.

Wrath made his way to the epicenter of alchemic activity, heavily alarmed and warded thanks to Ed and Al, and greeted the soldiers with the bag held out in front of him. "Take some while I'm offering it," he said with a smile. He'd noticed those had been coming much more easily now.

"Is this a bribe?" the captain in charge asked.

"You could say that. The brothers and I are heading up to the surface. It's been a while, and I could really use a tan."

The guys all laughed at him. It was known among the group of soldiers stationed in the city that Wrath had gotten horribly sunburned from his last extended stay in Central, everywhere except on his right arm and left leg, which tanned beautifully. And the normally distant Russell couldn't stop touching, poking and slapping Wrath, just to watch him squirm. Sometimes, the black-haired man swore Russell was seven rather than twenty-seven.

"You have the communication devices if there should be any changes here."

The men nodded to him, saluting him as a major now in the military—only in title, as always, the title meant captain as a state alchemist, but it still meant he outranked them.

0o0o0o0

Roy was grateful that his sister and Falman were taking the kids out that night. It was a good distraction for them, and necessary for Raine, as Falman's daughter, who was a year younger than Al and absolutely despised the elder Mustang, was going along. Standing in the kitchen, looking to the top of the refrigerator for just a moment, remembering how often he'd shooed the cat down from that very spot, he opened the door to get the vegetables he'd cut up earlier.

The phone rang, and the voice of his husband yelled out, "I'll get it!"

Roy said nothing, but mixed the carrots, onions, squash and broccoli into the stir-fry he'd made, slowly simmering the stuff over the stove before putting it onto two plates.

"Ed, supper's ready." He walked into the study, finding Black Hayate and Ed on the floor, the dog looking depressed and Ed sobbing painfully as his arm wrapped around the dog's thick neck. Ed had been sad since Carlida had died, but Roy knew better. He knew this was more than that. "Ed?"

"Auntie Pinako… she… Al called… she's…" The blond buried his head in the dog's fur, the large animal nuzzling against him.

Immediately, Roy knelt beside his husband, feeling sad at the loss, guilty once again that much of the woman's suffering in her life had been his fault in one way or another—not only the death of her son and daughter-in-law, but Ed's involvement in the military, which caused her countless hours of worry. But Roy knew that his feelings at the moment were nothing compared to Ed's. That woman had been a surrogate grandmother for him; she had cared for him when he'd had no one else to really do it. And stupid as it sounded, Roy's greatest anguish at the moment was not at the loss of the stubborn and independent woman, but at seeing how much losing her was hurting the person he loved.

"I didn't call her last week like I said I would. I promised her I'd call her to really talk to her, but I didn't."

"Ed, the alarms underground went off, you spent all week working to make sure the entire world is safe, and you did call her."

"But I kept it so short."

"And what would the two of you chatted about? Even while she was sick, Al and Winry were yelling at her to stop trying to do automail repairs. You and Pinako were doers, not talkers." Roy lovingly ran a hand over Ed's bound hair. "She knew that, Ed."

Roy ignored the food getting cold in the kitchen as he laid down beside Ed, wrapping his arm around the smaller frame as it shook beneath his grasp.

"So, do we let Raine know to bring the twins home so we can tell them?"

"No," Ed answered, pushing himself closer to Roy and pulling Black Hayate tighter. "Let them have their night out. We can tell them when Raine brings them back."

Roy nodded against Ed's head, realizing that this was being done as much for Ed as the twins. He needed time to come to terms with this before having to put on a brave face for their children. Roy had done it so many times with his own troops. He had done it with Ed concerning Maes's death as well, not wanting to face the blond immediately, knowing how much it would hurt him. And with Riza, they had been there for one another, just as they were now, just as they'd always be.

0o0o0o0

"Wrath! Fletcher!" Aideen yelled as she ran over to the two young men, leaving her aunt and brother behind. She hugged Wrath immediately, considering him essentially family, then grabbed hold of Fletcher's hand, looking up at him with eyes that seemed to have just finished crying, which maybe they had. "Did you make up your mind yet?" she asked, practically bouncing on the sidewalk, resembling her brother so much in the action that Fletcher would have sworn they'd been switched.

"I did."

"And?" she said, attempting puppy-dog eyes, and with the lingering tears still in them from the recent death of the pet she'd been attached to, Fletcher had to admit they were affective, so much so, he'd have agreed anyway.

"And, I'll do it. I'll teach you." The girl threw her arms around him, a grin on her face that didn't seem likely to fade for some time.

As Nicholas drew closer, he smiled, the enthusiasm somewhat drained from his big coal-black eyes. Then, as though to mentally change the topic in his own head, Nicholas said, "Guess what? Uncle Vato going to be a grandfather."

Fletcher and Wrath looked up at Falman, who looked so happy he might burst, then to Raine, who seemed to have her smile plastered on.

"My daughter just informed me today that she's going to have a baby. I'm going to have to research everything I can about being a grandfather."

"You mean there's actually a subject you don't have stored in that encyclopedia of a brain of yours?" Raine asked with a wink. She was angry, but obviously not at her boyfriend.

"Actually, yes." Falman said, putting his arm around his red-headed daughter, hugging her happily, seemingly unaware that the two women were at odds with one another. "And I suppose Raine will have to get used to the idea of being a sort of grandmother."

At those words, both women winced. Aideen half-giggled. "I don't think Auntie will like being called grandma." Fletcher looked down at the twins and up at Falman's daughter. He'd heard that she liked the two children, but this was obviously one of those situations where she wanted to be with her father alone, preferably, from the look on her face, without her father's live-in lover.

"Do you think," Fletcher said, tentatively, "that Ed and Roy would mind if we took over entertaining the kids to let your family have time to enjoy this news together?"

"I don't think so," Raine said.

"Can you take her too?" the young woman muttered, barely audible, and completely missed by her excited father.

A set of coal black eyes glanced over in a glare. There was certainly no love lost between these two women, but like it or not, they both loved Falman, and they'd just have to deal with one another.

As they were ready to part company with Falman and his "happy" family, Fletcher noticed that Aideen had been staring off, and at first, he had thought she was once again thinking of the cat, but there was a serious look on her face, mirrored by her brother.

"The Gate," she said, looking up. "It's trying to open."

"Falman," Wrath said, "take your daughter and get out of here. There's no telling what could come through. Take the twins."

"We're staying," Nicholas said, Aideen nodding the affirmative beside him. Falman sent his daughter away, telling her to get to safety as he tried to pull at the twins, neither having anything to do with it.

Then it happened, the sky ripping open, only slightly, but the first since Wrath and Frank had crossed, a large metal object hurtling itself toward the ground before the rift closed once again.

Almost immediately, the twins were rushing forward through the streets and alleys to the site of impact, followed behind by the adults, all of whom were trying to beat the two pre-teen alchemists from getting there first.

"It's a rocket!" Aideen yelled back.

"It could be a bomb," Fletcher yelled.

The girl clapped her hands and held them near the piece of scorchingly hot metal. "No, it's not. The components are the used-up rocket fuel, the basic metals that make it up and inside, I sense wood product, paper, I think."

Falman continued to run, but looking back at Raine and Fletcher, both of whom had lagged behind, his eyebrows were noticeably raised.

From a nearby restaurant, an all-too-familiar voice could be heard.

"What the hell?" Fletcher looked at the door and saw his brother and some brunette twig stepping out. He muttered something to her before kissing her quickly and jogging down the street toward the rest of them.

"Damned otherworld experiments ruined the first date I've had in months. What is it, Fletcher, Wrath?"

Nicholas clapped his hands and began cooling the air around the metal.

"You two shouldn't mess with this. It's dangerous," Wrath said, almost ignoring Russell.

"It isn't," Aideen argued. "I already told you what it is, what it's made of and aside from what's on the paper, what's inside."

Wrath knelt down, seeing the alchemic symbol on the side, one that would release the metal. "I want you all to stand back," he said. "Just in case."

Aideen rolled her eyes, a near mirror of her brother's face as they backed away.

Fletcher grabbed Aideen's shoulders, pulling her away, Raine doing the same to Nicholas as Wrath opened the metal container with very little ceremony and pulled out a stack of papers.

"She told you," Nicholas said.

But the look of sheer terror on Wrath's face said something about those papers was as bad as a weapon might have been.

"Wrath?" Russell said, coming near the tall brunette.

"Dante." Wrath was pale as it was, but even his lips seemed to have lost color. "The top of this is a letter to Dante."

"That bitch is dead," Raine said, obviously not caring about the presence of the children.

"This says she's been helping them on that side," Russell said, putting a hand on Wrath's shoulder, only to have it shaken off.

"That's how they've kept changing their alchemy," Wrath said. "I always questioned how they managed to continually improve upon what we did."

"It could have been she was in contact with them before she died," Falman suggested, stubbornly holding onto the denial he shared with his girlfriend.

"And what if it wasn't?" Wrath asked. "What if she didn't die?"

"We have to get this to Ed and the fuhrer," Russell said.

In silence everyone looked at one another until one innocent voice from a growing little blond broke the dead quiet.

"Who's Dante?"

0o0o0o0

That bitch!

Dante was fuming. Perhaps it was her own fault for signing her name on the documents, but she had insisted that no contact be made with her. What kind of egomaniac was Eckart? Did she feel the need to prove to Dante that yes, she'd managed to break through the gate and once again send something through?

Big damned deal.

Dante had been doing it for ages.

And now, everyone knew, or was at least wary of her being alive. She'd had her obvious death as a cover, but now they would be looking for her, searching everyone for her presence in their body. She couldn't trip things up, not yet. But she had to make sure that if she was found out, she had an army of her own, something to fight back against the military with.

Something that was going to require a letter to an old friend who had unknowingly done her work for her in the past. One who would jump at the offer of a real-life speaking, moving doll of his daughter.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32 **

_**Daughters**_

Ed had felt the alchemic power rushing through Central, and forgetting both his sadness and the mild embarrassment that Roy had found him on the floor under the pretense of comforting their dog, sobbing over the news of Pinako.

"Roy," Ed yelled, wiping his eyes, the lingering feeling in his muscles that he'd been run over by a massive vehicle going ignored. "The Gate. The twins are out there."

Ed ran out of the house in time to see the object crash, Roy not far behind him. His only thoughts were of the twins as he charged through the streets, trying to get to them, even more so than the mysterious object that at an earlier point in his life would have taken up all of his attention. If something had happened to them, Ed would rip open the Gate himself and kill the bitch on the other side and anyone who was helping her. Thankfully, as he scanned the crowd of people, he saw Wrath's tall head poking above the rest, Russell next to him. As he neared, he saw Fletcher and Falman, and saw the twins were there and were safe.

"Who's Dante?" Ed heard Nicholas asking.

Dante? Ed hadn't given that woman more than a few passing nightmares in the way of thought over the last few years. Why was his son suddenly speaking her name out loud?

"Don't you read _any_ history, Nicholas?" Aideen asked. "She's the one who controlled the homunculi."

"But… I thought that woman was eaten by one of the homunculi, Gluttony, right? She'd have to be better at more than alchemy to be around to be writing letters across the Gate."

"What's going on?" Ed asked, moving through the crowd of military officers and civilians to the voices of his children.

Wrath moved to Ed as he reached the cleared circle, and Ed didn't like the deadened look on the former homunculus's face. A pack of papers was held out to him, including research that had been done thus far and topped with a letter addressed to Dante.

She couldn't still be alive. He'd witnessed her being eaten by Gluttony himself. This had to be wrong, a lie, anything but what it seemed.

"I thought maybe they've had contact with her before her death," Falman suggested.

Ed read over the letter. It certainly didn't seem that way.

_Dante, _

_I send you this because I wish to know if there are any other suggestions you have for increasing our power. We have already captured a number of the men and women you suggested and their power seems to be helping us meet our goal, but I doubt we will be successful without a way to increase it further or for you to find a connection to your world like our own. _

_We could once again use your assistance. _

_Dietlinde Eckart_

It definitely seemed that Dante was present in their world. The question was: Where?

She could be anyone with her powers, and it was frightening to think that right now, in the crowd of people, she could be standing, watching.

"You look sick," Aideen said from her spot in front of Fletcher.

"I'm fine," he lied. "It's just a shock. Kind of like when we saw Frank for the first time." Fiery eyes watched him closely, almost analyzing him.

"You're afraid," she said slowly, eyes narrowing.

"This isn't the time to talk about this, Aideen." He began flipping through the research, much of it was information he already had, while most of his mind tried to comprehend that Dante really seemed to be here.

"Ed?" a rich bass voice said as it approached. Ed almost blindly handed the stack of papers back to Roy, going to analyze the metal object.

"It's one of those rockets that Frank told us about," Nicholas said. "There was nothing else to it. Aideen checked it out."

Ed glared up at the adults around him. "You let them get to the rocket first?"

"They're fast, faster than us," Wrath said as he approached the short alchemist. "What are we going to do?"

He looked up at the former homunculus seeing that lingering fear and anger from Dante's regular torture when he'd been younger. "I might let you have a go at her for a bit of revenge, but first that means actually finding her." He patted the muscular arm as he knelt beside the rocket.

He looked up at his daughter, whose molten eyes watched his every move intently. Dante couldn't be back, couldn't have been here all along. He wouldn't risk his daughter to that parasitic soul, and it almost frightened him to think what he'd do if Dante tried and how far he'd go without remorse.

0o0o0o0

Al wrapped his long arms around his wife, letting her cry into his chest, their three children gathered around them, all embracing her, hugging, sharing in their grief.

He hadn't really gotten to mourn, himself, as he was too busy trying to make preparations, deal with calling all friends and relatives, comfort Winry…

Being an adult, taking the role of the strong one sucked.

But looking down at the sad faces of his son and daughters helped as he steeled himself to his tasks. If he needed to be the strong one, he'd do it. He'd take his moment in the shower, when the water was too loud, drowning out the sound of him crying and mourning his adopted grandmother, knowing that he couldn't expect his usually resilient wife to manage to handle all of this alone. She would recover, she would be strong, but if she needed him for support, he would be there.

At the moment, thinking of when he'd made the announcement to the stubborn and tiny woman that Sasha was going to be born and had been conceived shortly after their engagement, he smiled, remembering the woman at first trying to pound him into the ground for getting his precious granddaughter pregnant before going into a frenzy about getting supplies and wondering what the little baby would look like. Pinako had wanted to deny it at first, but had eventually given up on trying to pretend that she wasn't thrilled to be a great-grandmother, and by the time the couple had adopted their elder son and younger daughter, she had been nearly as proud with her pictures of the family as Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had been.

Still, as he stood with his family, Al couldn't shake the feeling that something was happening, a bit of that connection he'd always had with his older brother, a sixth sense when something was wrong.

0o0o0o0

Sitting on the sofa in the commanding officer's home at the eastern headquarters, Frank read over a rather interesting historic novel. He'd found he enjoyed these, which provided stories to entertain him but also taught him a bit of the background of the world in which he found himself.

"Frank," he vaguely heard as he continued to read. "Frank, I'm sorry to have yelled at you today."

"It's your job, Kain. It's what you do."

For the last three months, the couple had been stationed out in the eastern area of the country, as there were some concerns with Lior and Ishbal, the once-massacred tribe actually the lesser of the threats. The people of Lior once again were having wars over their religion, and there were factions that regularly attacked the government, forcing the military's hand to once again take sides when really there was no desire to do so.

"I was too hard on you," Kain said, the guilt evident in his voice.

Frank merely turned the page of the novel he was reading. "You're my superior officer. You can't go easy on me because we're together."

"But that's just it. I was harder on you for that same reason."

Frank looked up from his book, watching as Kain crossed over and pulled himself onto the larger man's lap, something he didn't do often as both men needed to be in the right mood so they didn't feel they were a bit too old for this.

"I was so worried about you," Kain said, laying his head on Frank's chest. "I respect that you felt you had to go and save that girl, but you gave me no notice that you were. I thought something had happened to you. You scared me."

Frank smiled and kissed the young colonel's head. "I'm sorry Kain."

He wrapped his arm around Kain's waist, resting the arm with the book over his lover's shoulders, continuing to read, enjoying the feeling of the man in his arms. He felt the man shifting, and heard papers crinkling below.

"Letters from your sisters?"

"Yes. They are asking when you'll come to visit again. They all thought you were charming."

"Well, I try," Frank glanced down. "What does Anna mean, 'the offer still stands?'"

"Oh…"

"I didn't mean to be nosy."

"No, it's just… My sisters have always known I preferred my own gender, and that I'd never have a family of my own, so to speak. They'd all made the offer that if I found someone I wanted a family with, they'd help me get it. Since Anna's the one closest to my age, it's the safest for her."

"Do you want a family?"

"I don't know. I know I love watching you with the twins." He rubbed a hand over Frank's chest. "I just know I've never told anyone of my sister's offer before. But I don't know about the whole baby stuff at our ages. And Al can only adopt so many. And not that I think it should be soon."

"Well, at least it's something to think about." Frank bent down and kissed his boyfriend, noticing the strange expression on Kain's face as he did. "What?"

"Well, this wasn't how I expected you to react. I thought you'd either be so excited that you'd be going out to adopt immediately or making arrangements with Anna or you'd panic and think I wanted something you didn't."

"Honestly, the idea of planning for a baby seems a little strange to me, not to mention the idea of three a.m. feedings at my age or playing catch with the kid when I'm in my fifties seems odd," Frank said. "And we visit orphanages often enough running errands for the fuhrer or doing missions of goodwill. I prefer the attitude of 'if it happens, it happens.'"

He ran his hand over the stubbly cheek. "I think when it's time, if it's time, we'll know. Does that bother you?"

"No. I suppose it's just nice to know if one of us thinks it is time, that we've found a child we can raise, we're on the same page."

Frank kissed Kain's head again. "And besides, if we had a child together, I'd like it to look at least a little like you. Anna looks more like she belongs in the Elric family."

Once again, the two settled into their positions, that conversation out of the way. Honestly, Frank was thrilled at the idea that Kain wanted a family with him, but he wanted to let things happen as they should, not rush into something as important as this. Despite that, he could just imagine his little lover and their daughter—Frank had always wanted a little girl, had even considered marriage briefly on Earth for that reason. It was a nice thought as he felt the warmth of the younger man still seated on his lap, reading over the letters from his sisters, all of whom had adopted Frank into their family willingly.

Then the telephone rang, rousing Frank from his daydream. Kain shifted on his thighs, grabbing the phone.

"Colonel Fuery," he said, sounding rather official for the quiet man Frank knew elsewhere in their lives together. "Fuhrer, Sir, is everything okay?" Frank couldn't hear much, but heard his own name on the other end of the phone. "He's right here."

Frank took the receiver from his boyfriend, speaking into it. "Frank speaking."

"Frank, we need to know everything you do about Eckhart's research."

"I told you everything I know."

"But I have one question: Did she seem to have a contact on our side?"

"I wouldn't say it was from this world, but she definitely seemed to have someone who gave her new information when what we tried failed. I just assumed it was someone who had studied more thoroughly. You don't think it was Ed's father, do you?"

"No, we think it was someone who's still here. Have you ever heard the name Dante?"

"Possibly once, but there is a novel with that name in that is widely read in my world. You think this Dante person might be responsible for their work?"

"They broke through again, Frank, and there was a letter addressed to Dante inside of a small rocket. I was hoping to ease Ed's mind after talking to you, but it seems we have a major problem. And while I need Kain to continue his work there…" There was a pause.

"I will come to Central," Frank said, "on the first available train."

"Thank you, Frank. I really am sorry to separate you both."

"I understand."

There was a click on the other end, and Kain was looking at him curiously. Frank handed him the phone to hang up and looked into those bespectacled eyes.

"Roy said that they think a woman named Dante has been helping the Thules."

He felt the body in his arms grow rigid. "She can't… Ed will be a nervous wreck... And the twins…"

"Kain?"

The shorter man sighed and moved from Frank's lap. "There is more to alchemy than what you've seen the fuhrer's family do. There are darker parts. Dante was one of the darkest, and if she's still around, Aiden will be in danger." Frank found himself looking into two round, brown eyes. "I'll start at the beginning…"

0o0o0o0

_**Three weeks later**_

Dante walked into the darkened storage room, looking at the monstrous creature before her.

"Hello, Mr. Tucker," she said.

The large thing turned, still clinging desperately to the doll of its daughter.

"You know who I am?" it hoarsely whispered.

"Of course I do. I asked to meet you here."

"But I was told that—"

"Dante requested your presence. And Dante is here. Surely you must remember that I am capable of changing host bodies, Mr. Tucker. This is my new one." She stretched just a bit. "And I must say I rather like it."

She approached the monster to run a hand over the greasy hair of the doll he'd created. "You did an excellent job on her. She resembles the Nina I have seen in photos."

"You said in your letter that there was a way to bring my Nina back."

"Not exactly," Dante said, tucking her hair back into its bun. "I said I could show you how to create something that would look and talk like your daughter and look to you like a father. I can teach you how to make a homunculus."

"I already know how. I also know what it costs," it whispered. "If you will remember, I housed the Elric brothers at my home.

"And yet I stand here before you and have stood before you on other occasions. When I created Pride, the fuhrer, my body suffered no such loss." She held the lifeless doll's hand in her own, running a thumb over the top. "I could teach you how to do the same. You can learn from my experience, from my mistakes. Pride was perfect, obedient, loyal and so close to being human. Not once did he betray me. I can show you how to create something just as perfect, but in her image."

"You must want something in return."

"Of course I do, Sewing Life Alchemist. I want an army. It drains a lot of power to create another Pride, and en masse, homunculi are too unpredictable. I want an army of chimeras. Ones that will obey my voice, defend me at all costs. Will you help me?"

"You can teach me how to bring back my daughter?"

"I can."

"Then, yes."

"Good. I'll set you up with a proper lab, and all of the raw materials you may ever need. The fuhrer and the brat haven't found all of my secret locations just yet."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33 **

_**Exhausted Progress **_

_**One month later**_

Frank was on the phone with Kain, hating to admit just how much he missed him. They'd done most of their communication over the phone for going on two months, save for three days his lover had been in Central. Part of the former spy cursed whatever had turned him from the hardened military man into a damned woman, pining for a boyfriend and a would-be family.

It was just one more thing for Frank to hate that woman Dante for, as it was necessary to stay in Central to work with the fuhrer trying to find her while Kain was in the East. And poor Falman, wanting nothing more than to spend time with daughter as her pregnancy progressed, but couldn't risk her visiting him in Central or going away to visit her while he was needed where he was.

Then there was the threat she posed to the twins, to Aideen specifically, and what it seemed to be doing to her entire family to know she was in constant danger. Both her parents were wearing themselves ragged, as were her aunts and uncle, even Falman despite already having enough in the way of troubles with his daughter. Frank didn't like seeing his friends this way, but there was also the fact that he counted the raven-haired pre-teen as family and was as concerned for her safety as the rest.

"How are you holding up?" Kain asked from miles away.

"Okay. Just surprised by everything. From what Ed's told me, Dante made Wrath suffer a lot as a kid. He told me a lot about his past, but never mentioned her."

"And how long were we together before you talked about what had been done to you in that so-called 'Great War?'"

"Point taken. I didn't exactly share that with him, either."

There was a pause, then a sigh at the other end. "I fell incredibly stupid saying this, but I miss you."

"Same here. Makes me want to kill Dante even more." As if he didn't already, knowing that the witch had locked Wrath away inside of the Gate as "punishment for disobedience" or let that serpent go at him—regardless of being in a human form at the time. "I'll see you the next time you get to Central to file your report."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too," Frank said, still feeling odd saying it over the phone. It was one thing to say it to the man in person or in the middle of sex, as he did frequently.

God. Sex.

He hadn't had that in weeks either. The bitch really needed to die.

0o0o0o0

Standing in the lab, feeling Roy's disapproving eye falling on him, Ed looked up, perturbed. "What?"

"You're working yourself to death again."

"This is for good reason, Roy." Ed tried to look at him determinedly, but all he managed was something somewhere above exhausted. "I take enough time out of here to spend with the twins and that's all I need."

"What about sleep?"

"You look awfully tired, Brother," Al chimed in.

"I'm fine," Ed lied. Well, he seriously felt he was lying, as he barely got more than three hours of sleep at night since that thing crashed, and he had an ulcer the size of his fist currently making his gut feel as though he had swallowed a few hundred needles. "Listen, Roy, if you and your men can't find her and none of the research I've done has found her, we have to protect the twins. Al and I are very close to finding a symbol that will keep Dante out. The one we've found Al can still break through, but it takes him several tries."

Ed hadn't liked experimenting using Al's soul, but his younger brother had insisted, as he was the only person aside from Dante who had the capability of detaching his soul from his body. No matter how loudly Ed had protested that it was a risk for Al to separate his soul from his body, knowing they were trying to deflect it from the item he was trying to attach it to, for the sake of his family, Al hadn't had a second thought.

As Ed continued to analyze what modifications could be made to the symbol, he felt the piercing dark eye, hell even the one behind the patch, focused squarely on him, looking on in criticism of his actions. Ed was doing his best to keep his anger in check, knowing Roy was trying to have his best interests at heart as well as his children, but there was a part of him that just wanted to yell at the older man, to demand why he felt he had time to come into the lab, being of absolutely no use, rather than going out and finding the woman who posed such a threat to their children.

But Ed knew that even as he stared at the design for the hundredth time that day, Roy had troops searching for her, using a rather vague description, as she could be anyone. Roy didn't physically need to be out there doing it, unlike Ed with his current work, since without doubt that no one else would manage to come up with this array.

"Well, if you're going to stay here, at least make yourself useful," he told his husband. "Clean up the suit of armor, remove every trace of the last symbol. Al's still recovering from the last try."

"Yes, sir," Roy said. He grabbed a rag and dipped it in the bowl of cleaner, moving to scrub off the symbol. "Have either of you heard from Wrath?"

Underground, Wrath and the Tringhams were working to block the entrance to the Gate and to see if it could be done simply on the Amestris side.

"He's having trouble dealing with Russell," Al answered before taking a drink of water. Though detaching his soul didn't take as much energy out of him as it used to, it was obvious that it drained him a bit. "I like both Russell and Fletcher, but I sometimes wonder why he has to pick on Wrath so much."

"Because Russell never got out of the grade school mindset." Ed erased and redrew a section of the array. "He doesn't know how to deal with the fact that he likes Wrath."

"Likes him?" Al asked.

"Yeah," Ed said, flipping through some documents written by his father, no less. "Apparently Russell's had something for him since they met, not that I blame him. Wrath is definitely easy on the eyes, especially without the sharp teeth and freaky eyes."

"Mm-hmm," he heard Roy chime in.

"Eww," Al said. Ed snickered at his brother as he found what he'd been looking for and began incorporating the design into the one on the lab table. "I'll take your words for it. But I thought Russell liked women."

"All clean," Roy said, putting the rag back in the bowl of cleaner. "It took a while for Ed to point out to me that Russell and I have at least one thing in common: we aren't particular when it comes to the type of person we date."

"Oh," Al said.

"I think I have it," Ed said. "Al, you up to giving it a try?" Before the words even left his mouth or his brother started to stand up to prepare, he saw how exhausted Al looked. Maybe it was time to quit this end of their research, as it seemed no one had his stamina. "Never mind Al. I'll keep a close guard on the kids tonight and we'll give it a shot tomorrow? Okay?"

Al nodded, looking overwhelmingly grateful. He bent down—damn, Ed hated that his brother had to

do it—to hug him. "Get some rest."

"I will," Ed said. "Liar," Roy and Al said in unison.

"Force him to sleep if you have to," Al said to Roy before leaving the lab.

Ed found himself with a long arm around his shoulders. "You are getting better at small-talk when you don't want Al to think you're wearing yourself too thin. But you _are_ coming in with me. The twins will be back from Raine's, and they have hardly seen you this week."

"I'm doing this for them."

"I know, Ed." Roy kissed Ed on his forehead. "But the more you spend time in here, the more worried the twins become. They've suddenly had guards put on detail to protect them, you're either out here or away on missions, neither of us can walk through a crowd of people without trying to figure out if they are Dante, and I'm spending longer hours at the office." Ed found Roy's hand slipping from his shoulder, moving down to grab his hand. "Ed, in trying to protect our children, we're alienating them."

Ed looked up at Roy, hating that the words he'd just heard were true.

0o0o0o0

Wrath was proudly placing the last of the alchemic blocks in the underground city. Admittedly, they were not as strong as he'd have liked, but it was a start, and hopefully enough to counteract the alchemy on Earth for a while. He knelt next to the cylindrical metal object with the array engraved on it, activating it to create a protective barrier throughout the city. With a roll of his shoulders, he stretched out his tense back, shocked to suddenly find a set of hands at those shoulders.

"Russell," he said as he looked back at the blond, who surprisingly was rubbing the knots out of his muscles. "What are you doing?"

"You looked tense." Wrath started to shrug him off. "It's just a favor, now that we've got the biggest part of our work done. Maybe we can go back to doing research, and you can try to teach Nicholas and Fletcher can Aideen."

Wrath turned around, eying Russell warily as he stood, now towering over the blond. He said nothing as they walked toward the manor where they spent their nights doing their work. He had tried not to notice that Russell's behavior had changed slightly over the last few weeks, as they'd worked together. Actually, he'd almost been pleasant. It was disturbing.

"We're not done yet," Wrath said, noticing as the blond walked at his side. "We have to work in Central putting these up and then work within a widening radius. We are far from done, Russell."

The blond made some noise before following behind him. He didn't entirely understand why suddenly there had been this change in the elder brother, but he preferred the arguing. That he understood and didn't get confused by. When Russell was like this, it just baffled him, making him actually think the blond wanted something else with him, despite the fact that he obviously preferred women, if his date was anything to go by.

"Well, at least if we're working up in Central, we'll be able to get some decent food aside from when Mrs. Havoc drops it off to us." Russell gave a pleased groan. "I think pasta for me. What about you? Is there something you're missing?"

"I don't know. Edward and I used to get this chocolate cake. It was a favorite of his. It would sound pretty good right now."

"Do you have a favorite? Something that maybe isn't Edward's?" That cold tone came into Russell's voice again.

"I don't know… I spent a lot of time around him."

"And you've been here for over a year. I just liked to know one thing you like that wasn't Edward's."

Was that jealousy in Russell's voice? Wrath shook his head at his thoughts, apparently making Russell think it was at him. "I'm going to go ahead and let Fletcher know, if you want to finish cleaning p some of our supplies." With that, Russell jogged ahead, leaving a confused Wrath behind.

"Damn him," Wrath muttered.

0o0o0o0

Roy sat on the sofa, practically holding Ed in place with his left arm as he sat watching the twins play a game of alchemy of their own making. His husband remained a mass of twitching, tense nerves. He wanted back out to his lab, but despite knowing Ed was an adult, there was still a part of Roy that told him he couldn't allow the smaller alchemist wear himself to exhaustion. He'd been doing this since he'd first met Ed.

Then he looked at his children and it struck him. He looked over at the man at his side. "Hit me now."

Ed turned his head to him, eyebrow raised. "Not that I need a reason or your permission, but want to tell me why?"

"You were their age," Roy said. At that Ed winced, Roy realizing what Ed thought he meant, the human transmutation, so he immediately continued his thought. "When I offered you to join the military. You were just a few months older than them when I told you that you could become a state alchemist, to join the military and become an adult who had to fight wars and battles where it was likely you could kill or be killed." He watched as Nicholas transformed a piece of cobalt-colored glass into a swan, and as Aideen made a modification to it so that it spread its wings. It was a game of one-upmanship, Aideen usually the winner, but a gracious one at least.

He saw Ed's eyes looking down at the twins and felt the hard, cool sensation of the automail hand through his pants at his knee. "Best thing you could have done for me."

Roy gently kissed Ed's cheek, feeling the muscles in the younger man's back loosening just a bit. He reached his right hand over and began caressing over Ed's brows, over his cheek and neck. It wouldn't be long before he was asleep, and Roy was going to do his best to get him there.

If Ed really was as close as they both felt he was to finding something to protect Aideen—and consequently Nicholas—maybe he wouldn't have to coax his husband into sleep any more. The array would be put into necklaces of some kind, activated, and used to protect the twins. It was all that could be done until Dante could be found, a task that both parents had taken upon themselves to resolve amidst a dozen other things.

0o0o0o0

When the glass sculpture became a realistic-looking blue dragon, Nicholas conceded defeat to Aideen. He continued to play these games against her, because even though she was better than him by quite a bit, his skills improved being faced with hers.

Aideen looked ready to clap her hands and destroy the dragon back into a blue glass paperweight.

"No," Nicholas said, stopping her. "I'd like to put it in my room like this. It's really cool."

She smiled at him. "Careful with it, though, when you take it up there. The glass is really thin, so it could break easily."

"I will be." He looked up and saw that their fathers were both sound asleep, curled against one another on the sofa. "Aideen," he whispered, "should we wake them up?"

"I don't think so. I'll just get them a blanket and we can get to bed." Nicholas nodded and began shutting down the house as he watched Aideen cover the two sleeping men with a blanket, kissing them both on the foreheads as she did. She turned and picked up the dragon gently, stepping out of the room before Nicholas shut off the light, going ahead of her upstairs to make room for the blue lizard she'd created.

As he went to the bedroom, Nicholas hoped that his parents got some decent sleep for once. Since the crash of the small rocket, it didn't seem that either of them had managed to relax for more than an hour. Though he and his sister had both been given a bit of a lesson on who Dante was and why they were both so worried, Nicholas knew there was more to it than they were being told, but it was Aideen who was doing the research into what happened, occasionally using the pull of their parents to get into the more, if not the most, restricted sections of the libraries. All he knew was that he wanted his parents to think they were safe, not only for his sake but their's.

0o0o0o0

Russell was sitting with Fletcher, discussing how it would be possible to do Aideen's lessons while they were doing work in Central, as his younger brother seemed obviously anxious to return to plant alchemy. It was true that he missed it, but nowhere near as much as Fletcher.

He noticed as Wrath walked into the room, looking intently at Russell, almost to the point that it made the blond nervous. "Apple Strudel," he answered before walking into the next room.

"What was that about?" Fletcher asked.

Russell shrugged, though he was smiling to himself, now knowing something about the man who'd turned him from a usually disagreeable adult into an immature child who didn't know how to deal with a crush. And this something, for once, had nothing to do with Edward.


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N: lioness78, nope, Raine and Falman are not married. If that was written anywhere it was a mistake on my part. Falman had a nasty marriage and Raine's happy with things as they are. EmoNekoNinja, I know, the kitty, but pets just don't live forever and she was 11 years old. FMA lover912, I'm glad to see you review. Thanks for the comments about how I write Dante and Ed. Honestly, it was just how the plot came to me as far as the cat dying. I'm not telling about the form Dante took. And I do not deny I feature Aideen a little more. It isn't favoritism, but for good reason. Besides, Nicholas can be there for a third of the time of Aideen and make a bigger impression because of his bigger personality. Though I did add a scene for him to chapter 11. _

**Chapter 34 **

**_Milestone _**

**_A year and a half later_**

Ed grimaced at the banner hanging across his lab. He wanted to smack Roy, not to mention Havoc and Breda, because he knew they were behind this.

"Brother, what are you…" Then came the laughter. Ed really loved hearing his brother laugh, seeing his face light up, but did it have to be at his expense?

"Next year, Al. Just remember. Next year."

As though glaring at the banner would make it go away, Ed stared at the rather large proclamation that today he was thirty. Al threw an arm around Ed, who despite all this, was trying not to indulge too much in the tentative relaxation of the last few months. After years of no attack from Dante and the final completion of the arrays that the twins now wore around their necks, as did all members of the family and their friends, it was a time of calm. There was some debate over passing the necklaces out to members of the military, even incorporating it into uniforms, but the fear was that Dante would somehow come in contact with the array and decipher it, finding a way around it. Currently, Ed was trying to find one that would hurt Dante, as an alien residing in a body that wasn't hers, but all he had was the array that protected from being taken over by his father's former lover. It had also prevented Al from returning to his body in a momentarily terrifying and unintentional experiment.

"Let's see if we can get anywhere today," Ed said, walking through the doorway, trying to reach the banner to rip it down, but finding it out of his reach. "You put this up, didn't you?"

"Me?" Al asked innocently.

"You." Ed glared up at the brother who was still in his twenties. "Next year, I'm going to—"

"Be thirty-one, still more than a year older than me."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" Ed crossed his arms over his chest, while Al snickered. "I hate you."

"I know, Brother."

0o0o0o0

Roy didn't dare admit to Ed that it was a little depressing to know that the young blond he'd married was now a thirty-year-old man. It made Roy feel old; after all, one of the perks of being with Ed had been saying that even though Roy was in his forties, he still had a very handsome twenty-something waiting at home. Not that the birthday changed anything about the way he felt about Ed, but it had been fun for those ten years (the ones when Ed had been technically a teen had caused some moral dilemmas, making Roy feel like a pervert). The twenties had been nice, though he supposed that since Ed was still Ed, a force to be reckoned with, strong, beautiful—not that he'd dare say so to the object of his desires—and fiery as ever, thirty didn't matter so much.

Of course, Roy couldn't say the same of the number 13, which would soon be upon him. Ten days from now was the twins' birthday, ten days from now, they would be teenagers.

There were already signs of their growing up, including Aideen finally matching Ed in height, Nicholas only an inch behind and catching up. There were crushes that came and went, school dances and semi-dates. He and Ed had given both their children the first of many "talks" on sex, keeping it simple at this point. Both fathers had pointed out their methods of dealing with unwanted issues below the waist to their son.

Then there had been Aideen's first period a few months ago. That had been embarrassing for everyone. The twelve-year-old girl panicked, thinking something might be seriously wrong; she'd woken up with blood on her sheets. Nicholas ran in, completely confused—leading to another "talk" with the boy. Ed had worried himself until he was nearly sick, memories of his own experience waking up in blood apparently adding to his concern. He just kept saying he didn't think a woman's period involved "that much blood." Though Roy had never had experience with women with training bras, he had dated his share of women who at one point or another had been on their time of the month, and assured his entire family everything was fine, and it was all perfectly normal. Winry had gone out and bought all the necessary items for Aideen immediately, and now, once a month their daughter got moodier than normal.

Those thoughts on his mind, it wasn't surprising that it took Frank and Havoc several minutes to get his attention.

"Sir," Havoc said. "Sir?"

" Roy!"

"Oh, sorry." Roy ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed that as fuhrer, he'd been caught daydreaming. "How are investigations going?"

"We found information that there have been some strange happenings at a supposedly abandoned area of the south end of Central. There are some old warehouses there—" Roy raised a hand to interrupt Havoc.

"Please don't tell me anything about a warehouse 13. I am tired of that story."

"No," Frank chuckled. "I went with Colonel Breda and Kain and proved to the two that they were being ridiculous. Wasted perfectly good alone time with Kain for that." Frank crossed his arms. Though he and Fuery had managed to find more time together, as Frank was usually first to be sent to the East, thanks to his promotion to Lieutenant Colonel, and as a colonel, Kain was more often in Central. While it had been a nice concession for the two men, Roy knew sooner or later he would need to move them both to the same location, as they were seriously contemplating adoption at this point.

"Anyway, Chief," Havoc said, folding his arms across his chest. "The warehouses require the fuhrer's signature. I'm guessing that comes from the previous regime."

Roy straightened in his chair. "Which means it could be dangerous."

"Yes," Frank said, "but if there's a chance that it has something to do with that… woman, it's best to know now."

Roy nodded. "I'll sign off on it, but I want you to be careful, and recruit some alchemists serving under you to help investigate. The last time that Ed investigated a place with that kind of designation, there were a number of dark alchemic experiments he had to face."

The two men nodded. "Oh, and tell Ed to stop calling me when he's working to rant at me about that banner. It's getting distracting."

"You shouldn't have put it up. How did you expect him to react?" Roy said with a smile. "And aside from that, who do you think put all the blame on you?"

"That's why, when he called me, I was glad to be able to honestly say I had nothing to do with it," Frank said smugly. "I pity you, Havoc."

"What? Because of the banner?"

"Because you have three months until you turn forty," Frank teased. "Ed's going to make you suffer."

0o0o0o0

Fletcher watched as Aideen focused intently on the plant in front of her, gold and brown eyes narrowing, then closing. Aideen sometimes had trouble keeping her thoughts entirely on the goal of getting the rosebush to blossom. She thankfully had more control over it than she used to. The first time she'd tried to get a sunflower to grow, it had shot up faster than anything Fletcher had ever managed, but had almost immediately withered and died.

It was a rare thing, but if Fletcher had learned anything with the pre-teen, it was that nothing was normal.

When Fletcher had been learning the green alchemy, he'd found he struggled most often at the beginning of the process, as Aideen was now, rather than losing control of his focus and getting the sudden reaction Aideen had that initial time.

She groaned. "I'm not getting anywhere."

"Is there something particular on your mind?" Fletcher asked, snapping off a daisy from the pot to his right, handing it to her.

She twirled the flower around between her fingers, watching the spinning white petals. "Nicholas had his first kiss yesterday. Papa and Dad sat him down and talked to him for ages."

"What did they say to him?"

"At first Papa sounded really proud of Nicholas for it, then Dad asked him what talk he'd give me. It all kind of changed. Something about a double standard."

"Did that bother you?" Fletcher asked, trying to determine the reason she was struggling with her practice.

"I thought it was pretty funny. Papa slipped up at least twice lecturing Nicholas, actually calling him 'young lady.'"

"Are you upset your brother had his first kiss before you did? You're both awfully young, but it will happen when it does."

Aideen blushed and looked away from him. "That isn't it. It's just, my fathers don't know…" Then something was mumbled, which Fletcher asked her to repeat. "I already had mine."

Knowingly, Fletcher nodded his head. "And you feel guilty."

Biting her upper lip, she looked at him, nodding her head.

"That could explain what's causing the problems with your focus."

"So what do I do?" she asked, fidgeting a bit in her seat. "I felt so bad knowing I could have taken the pressure off of Nicholas, but I didn't. And he knew that Aaron had kissed me after the dance last month, but he didn't say anything."

Fletcher smiled as he continued to move some pots out of the way. "I think that means he didn't expect you to say anything, but for your own conscience, I think you might need to tell your parents. And not because you're having trouble with your alchemy."

The girl looked somewhat disappointed with his advice, but deferred to age and experience. "I'll tell them as soon as I get home."

"Do you want to give it another try?"

"Sure," Aideen clapped her hands, and held them against a root, eyes closed, trying to focus and relax. Buds began to form, then blossom, a fact that still amazed Fletcher with her ability. Grasping the concepts behind this form of alchemy had never been difficult for her, and she achieved working with vines very quickly, now nearly matching him in skill. If it was possible, he believed that when she performed this type of alchemy, it was even more closely linked to her emotions than was usual, and he could generally tell by what happened exactly what she was feeling.

Yet, it was delicate work like this that continued to evade her, this part that was usually the simplest, purest part of plant alchemy.

Suddenly, she pulled back, looking at the plant and two blackened roses.

"I did it again," she said defeatedly. "I don't understand it. I thought I had my mind in the right place."

Fletcher moved around the table to put his arm on her shoulder. Aideen had reached her limit in medical alchemy for this same reason, allowing her brother to actually surpass her in that field of study.

"I'll tell you what, Aideen, I'll do some research to see what your problem might be," he pulled a tiny piece of

paper from his pocket and laid it on the root where Aideen had been working, restoring the nearly dead flowers.

"And until I can figure it out, we'll keep working with the vines. It may be something as simple as the fact that you are so advanced, you just can't control your power."

Aideen looked up at him doubtfully, but he just offered her a reassuring pat on her back.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas snuck into the house, hoping that there would be no more mentions of his stupid kiss from the day before. It wasn't even that good. He'd half-missed her mouth, it had been too wet, and he'd done it on a dare, not even on a semi, not really, date like Aideen's had been. Though he'd been grateful to find out that hers hadn't been any better than his.

Nicholas was Roy Mustang's son, after all, and he didn't want to be remembered as the guy who was a bad kisser. Unfortunately, he was also Edward Elric's son as well, and he hadn't been able to pass up the dare. His friend Victor had bet he couldn't bring himself to kiss Dawn Marcus, the prettiest girl in their class, who was rumored to have a major crush on Nicholas. Leave it to the blond to immediately respond to the dare rather than be thought of as a chicken. He didn't even make a wager on the bet, just taken it and won.

And what did it win him? A lecture that started off a whole heck of a lot better than it ended when his dad, thank you very much, had pointed out that if Nicholas had been Aideen his papa wouldn't have been happy. So the nice, happy talk had turned into one that lasted forever, and had even included him being referred to as a girl or young lady more times than he was entirely comfortable with.

Nicholas decided that the easiest way to avoid that conversation would be to avoid his fathers until it was time for his dad's party.

Seeing his dad was still in the lab, Nicholas started to skulk off to his bedroom, when he heard the main door open, and a frustrated groan. His sister was home.

"Flowers again?" he asked, reveling in her pain just a little.

"Yes." She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her pants, walking toward him, shoulders tight. "You're enjoying this a bit too much."

"Oh, like someone else with that lecture yesterday? When she'd already had her own weeks before me?"

"I'm surprised you didn't tell them to get the attention away from you."

"I'm not that mean. Besides, I knew if I did, you'd kick my butt the next time we sparred."

"I do that already." Nicholas stuck his tongue out at her. "But I _am_ going to tell them. I feel guilty not doing it."

"And you're supposed to be the smarter one."

Aideen only rolled her eyes. "Did you get Dad a present?"

"Up in my room right now. What about you?"

"It's out front right now. I wanted to show him that I'm getting better with my lessons, so I made a flamel out of vines surrounded by aloe vera that can be planted next to the lab. That way, the next time he or Uncle Al burn themselves, there will be something there to help them."

"You're too friggin' thoughtful, you know that?" Nicholas said as he went upstairs.

"What did you get? I'm sure he'll like it."

Then, with a smirk, Nicholas turned and looked down at her. "I know he will. I designed an array with Wrath's help that will let him absorb stone into his body. Once it's memorized, and that won't take long for Dad, he'll be able to do some of the alchemy Wrath can. We're still working on metal."

"Show off," Aideen said with a smile. Nicholas knew his sister didn't begrudge him the fact that he could do something; even in their lessons with Auntie, she didn't seem upset that he excelled in areas she didn't. They'd both learned a long time ago it was better to consider one another friendly competition because the rest of the world was always going to look at them a little strangely, be just a bit curious of their abilities and their origins. Taking sides against one another was idiotic, and both knew it.

0o0o0o0

"I can't believe he's taking his date to Ed's party," Russell growled.

"What did you expect? They've been dating for two months." Fletcher pulled on a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. It had become tradition with the Mustang family that the family/friend get-togethers be informal and outdoors whenever possible, since the couple had enough in the way of regal parties and balls.

"But this guy was supposed to be the rebound."

"Two and a half years after the last boyfriend doesn't make him a rebound, Russell." Fletcher put on a belt, part of him wishing he managed to fill out his jeans like his older brother, his thin frame and almost complete lack of an ass making keeping on even his comfortable pants a difficult task without a synch or a belt. If it weren't for the fact that he'd be laughed at, he'd use suspenders.

"It isn't fair," Russell said. "I spent all this time, getting him to talk, getting him to withdraw from himself, getting him to figure out who he really is, and this guy's benefiting from it."

"Life isn't fair, and you've known him long enough you could have easily made your move."

"What I don't understand is why he ended up with another little, passive guy like Edward."

"He's not little," Fletcher said, glaring at his brother. "He's my height, and I'm an inch taller than the fuhrer."

"But next to Wrath, he's little."

"Next to Wrath, you're little."

"At least I can look him in the eye… well, the bottom lip."

Fletcher rolled his eyes and started laughing as he headed toward the door of their apartment.

"What?"

"You're funny when you're jealously indignant."

"I'm not jealous." Russell looked over at Fletcher, who remained silent as he gathered Ed's present from them under his arm. "Oh, screw him."

"No thanks, I'm straight."

"You should go into comedy, Fletcher."

0o0o0o0

Wrath had decided to go solo to Ed's birthday, feeling awkward at the idea having his boyfriend there, since Jacob really didn't know anyone personally and would likely feel out of place. That didn't even mention the older Tringham, who had been in a miserable mood ever since Wrath had begun to date him.

Still, sitting and watching as Roy wrapped his arms around Ed's shoulders, whispering something in his ear, Wrath found it very difficult to believe that these two had once had a rather volatile relationship that didn't seem to lend itself to ever being a couple. He knew that this thought would get him in trouble, but honestly, when he looked at the fuhrer and his husband, the word fluff came to mind.

"You bastard!" Ed suddenly cried out, smacking Roy with his automail hand. Wrath took that last thought back.

"Ed, the kids!"

"If they haven't heard me call you a bastard by now, they've not been listening well enough."

The taller man leaned down and whispered something else in Ed's ear, making the shorter man turn an interesting shade of red, this time he lightly punched his husband with his left hand.

And the fluff was back.

Wrath couldn't really complain about this part of his relationship with Jacob. It was that flash of something else he'd seen a moment before, that obvious show that these two, despite an age gap, Ed's height disadvantage, a rank difference with Roy at the most extreme possibility, and personalities that by all rights should have clashed every moment of the day, were passionate for one another.

Wrath had never really had that, had someone who knew each of his little moods and brought out the kind of fire he saw in those two. Or even what Frank had, someone who argued and debated with him but who melded with him perfectly, someone he could trust with his secret of his world.

Jacob didn't know anything of Wrath's past.

"Here," Wrath heard as he saw a large green apple being shoved into his face. "It was on the tree near the fence. Know you have a thing for these. Though this one's probably a bit tart."

Wrath took the apple from Russell, biting into the crisp flesh. It was definitely tart, but it was strange to think that Russell had remembered.

"Don't waste your appetite on apples," Nicholas said from not far away where he was playing with the younger children. "We've got cake."

There were shouts all around the boy, chants of "Cake, cake, cake!"

Even the little redheaded girl sitting on Falman's lap managed to yell out along with the other kids. Even Raine, who hadn't quite dealt with the fact that this was her boyfriend's granddaughter, or that she was the spawn of the daughter who disliked the eldest Mustang for simply being with Falman, seemed enamored with the tiny girl.

Nearby, Aideen and Phillip Armstrong were busy discussing new arrays and techniques for their alchemy, Aideen seeming to enjoy someone to bounce ideas off of who wasn't her brother, Phillip actually looking as though he was enjoying her company. Wrath felt almost at a loss that even in this young, foundling little relationship, there was an understanding.

0o0o0o0

Russell wasn't sure why he'd volunteered to clean up while the party was still going on outside. It certainly was out of character on his part. They definitely sounded like they were having fun playing some kind of unfair game of tag with the kids, as the kids were considerably faster than the adults. Not that Russell would really have played with them, but honestly, why was he here?

Wrath handed him a plate, thick hand brushing up against his own.

That was why.

Russell took the wet plate from Wrath, drying it off with a towel.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring Jack. He's become your shadow lately." Damn it, that wasn't supposed to come out of his mouth.

"_Jacob_. And I wanted him to get to know everyone better before I brought him to a family gathering."

"Did you tie his leash up outside, or did you leave him back at his apartment and put papers on the floor?" Russell told himself to stop, but the message never reached his mouth.

Silverware was violently slammed in the sink, and before Russell could think to react, he was being shoved against the wall, Wrath's forearm pressed against his chest. "What the hell is your problem, Russell? Jacob's a nice guy, and he's my boyfriend. Why can't you just let this drop, you petty bastard? I can't help it if your last few dates with those skinny women you like aren't doing anything for you, but I'm happy."

"If you're so happy, then why the hell don't you look it?"

Wrath was just inches away from his face, and for a moment, the two defiantly stood there, staring into one another's eyes until Wrath finally released him, looking at the blond in disgust. "Screw you, Russell."

"You wish." He wished too, but coward that he was, he wasn't going to say it.


	35. Chapter 35

_A/N: **Sadler**, yep, the fluff is back, for this chapter at least. **RosalieAnne,** yeah, he's jealous, and immature about how to deal with it. Thanks. **iluvEdo**, Thank you. I've been told this story has some of the strangest pairings, and even I have to agree. And honestly, I don't know what Roy whispered in Ed's ear to make him red and mad. I just threw it in for fun. **Fuebi,** First, yeah, they're being harsh on Frank in the earlier chapters. They can't help it. He looks like the evil Frank. And as for Aideen, I know, she seems very perfect and cold. That's intentional and also why I have Nicholas as a very big contrast to her. This chapter doesn't have much in the way of her, though. **FMA lover912**, Yeah, Russell's an idiot, but he's an idiot because he likes Wrath. And guilt and Aideen… well, you'll see more of that, believe me._

**Chapter 35 **

**_Revenge by Inaction _**

**_Two weeks Later_**

They were investigating her warehouses! The fuhrer actually had the gall to investigate them, send troops into them, and remove all of the items and research she'd worked so hard to preserve. Bastard.

She knew there remained only one that had not been thoroughly searched, now that the troops realized the underground portion of these warehouses was far more extensive. She had considered giving Tucker enough advanced notice that he could get himself and the chimeras out of there, but Dante decided that he would make it out just fine with his ragdoll daughter in tow. But the chimeras, they would show Roy Mustang exactly what happens when he underestimates what she has created and left behind.

0o0o0o0

Groggily, Roy opened his eyes. Damn, it was morning already and his wrists hurt. He looked over at the devil he'd married, who was still sound asleep with an impish grin plastered to his face. Of course he'd be smiling. He wasn't the one blindfolded and tied to the bedposts last night. Roy was all for a bit of kink, but he preferred it when Ed was the one bound and gagged. He particularly liked him gagged.

Though, memories of being absolutely at Ed's will while Ed nipped, tickled, and licked in random patterns over his prone body were making what had been mere morning wood grow somewhat painful. Then the sensation of Ed riding him last night, all the while he was blindfolded, unable to watch, only imagine, the pleasure on the younger man's face suddenly flashed before his memory, much as he tried to will it away.

He groaned, knowing that there wasn't time to do anything about his growing problem, and began to get dressed, watching as Ed slowly sprawled out across the sheets. Nearly thirteen years of marriage, and even a bit longer sharing a bed, and Ed still insisted on taking over the entire thing somehow with his small body. As he got dressed in his uniform, Roy knew the inevitable was coming. He'd have to wake Ed up, and that task had become incredibly daunting since the obsessed alchemist started depriving himself of necessary sleep. Now, though it was next to impossible to _get_ Ed to sleep, it was nearly so to wake him up once he'd gotten there.

"Ed," he said, walking over to the thing that seemed to be entirely arms and legs beneath the blankets of their bed. "Ed, wake up."

"Fuggoff," he mumbled against the pillows.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Very mature, Ed, but the twins are probably already up. I know they turned into teenagers a few days ago, but do you want them to go off to school without seeing them?"

"Warm here."

Roy pulled the blankets off of Ed's still-naked body—they'd climbed into bed immediately after the shower. Before he could stop himself, Roy found he was kneeling on the mattress next to his husband, kissing the tanned, taut skin, tickling his hands down the ribs, noticing as each muscle beneath twitched and shifted. He smiled into his husband's back, realizing that though Ed was thirty, he had yet to reach the downward slide, his body a bit too thin compared to a few years ago, but still as firm as ever. His hands made their way to the little dip at the base of Ed's spine, then over those solid yet soft globes beneath.

He could hear Ed humming into the pillow.

And at that, Roy smacked him with a resounding slap that echoed through their bedroom.

"You son of a bitch bastard!" Ed said, whipping around and shooting straight up, hand still protectively on his reddened behind. "What the hell was that for?"

"Your wake-up call, Edward." Ed looked at him strangely. He rarely used Ed's full first name since they had discovered the existence of the other Edward. But honestly after the playful spank, it fit. Really, he'd have thrown in the Warren that followed Edward, but he knew better. When your parents were sadistic enough to give you the middle name " Irving" you didn't throw stones from your glass house.

Roy watched as Ed stormed around their bedroom, pulling on a pair of boxers, then an undershirt, glaring at him all the while.

With a smirk, Roy put on the black fabric that he was seriously contemplating doing away with. He'd realized that the print in books wasn't being made smaller nowadays, and somehow, the idea of wearing glasses with an eyepatch seemed ridiculous. He'd grown accustomed to the scar and even learned to appreciate Ed's craftsmanship on the glass eye. And the scar was fading, not that it would ever be gone, but it was by no means as garish as it had once been, though that was perhaps a perspective he'd gained since accepting the prominent blemish on his face.

"So Havoc, Frank and some of the other troops are investigating the underground of the last warehouse today, right?" Ed asked.

"Yes," Roy said as he grabbed a comb and ran it through his slowly graying hair—that was one blessing. The sides were white, but the black was still putting up a fight.

"After everything that's been found so far, I'm wondering if maybe I should go along with them." Roy raised an eyebrow at Ed as he dressed, actually pulling on his hardly-used uniform. "Everything that's been found so far makes me think this could be the main warehouse. It could be anything from a wealth of research to another laboratory five." He buttoned up the white dress shirt and pulled out the blue pants, minus the flap on the outside. Ed hated the thing, and this wasn't a mission that called for the full uniform. Roy merely watched, trying to decide how he felt about his husband having to go up against yet another laboratory five. To this day, what Ed saw there, even what Al saw there, disturbed them both, and what they knew went on there thanks to Marta's descriptions, didn't help with the nightmares and the dark memories.

Still, there was no justifiable reason for Roy to keep Ed from going, especially not when his troops were and those troops included two of his own friends.

Roy walked over to Ed, who was tucking his shirt into his pants, kissing him atop the golden hair. "I'll go down and start breakfast. Pancakes okay?"

Ed nodded as he zipped up his fly. Roy glanced back at him, putting on the coat that signified him as a lieutenant colonel—a rank Ed was quite happy with remaining—remembering the first time he'd managed to get his husband in uniform, and how much he'd looked like a child playing dress-up. Not much had changed in Ed's appearance since then, but nothing in the tanned face or golden eyes made him seem like a child any longer.

0o0o0o0

"Since I happen to be in Central at the moment, why don't I go with you?" Kain said as Frank was trying to untangle his limbs from his lover's.

"As long as you don't overstep authority. You might outrank me, but this is my mission along with Havoc." Frank kissed Kain at the bridge of his nose and climbed out of bed.

"I'll obey every order," Kain said, stretching and incidentally allowing his undershirt to ride up over his stomach. A bit embarrassed, he pulled the shirt back down.

"You do know that I don't care, right Kain?" Frank began the process of getting dressed.

"But look at you, I don't think I've ever had the build you do."

"You _had_ it last night," Frank quipped as he removed his folded underwear from the drawer.

"You know what I mean." Kain sighed and moved to the closet where his uniform hung. "They had to give me a bigger sized uniform last week because my old ones were getting tight…" He thumped his stomach. "here."

"Still don't care." Frank easily changed in front of his boyfriend, stripping to nothing. "Besides, the only reason I look like this is I expend all of my sexual energy in the gym when you're not here. I'm forty-five. Do you think this would happen if I wasn't spending at least two hours lifting weights and working out every night?"

"You work out and I eat."

Boxers on, Frank walked over to Kain, pulling the stubbly, round face into his hands and looking down at the big brown eyes. "Do you care if I lose my hair? Because I think it waved a white flag yesterday in defeat." Kain shook his head as best he could being held by those hands. "Then I don't care if you get bigger than Breda and Armstrong's father combined. Understand me?" There was a nod. "Good."

Frank leaned forward pressing their lips together. He'd never had anyone save for his own mother who cared about him the way Kain did, and he sure as hell wasn't going to care if his small lover had become a bit softer around the middle.

Now all that was left was to get into the bathroom before the brown-eyed man. Not living together all this time had nearly made Frank forget just how long Kain took in the bathroom shaving and getting ready in the mornings. There were a lot of the little obnoxious habits both had forgotten that had led to some of their more petty arguments. Though the petty ones were the easiest to fix and led to really good make-up sex without the residual feeling of guilt for having fought in the first place.

Thankfully, Frank made it in first, practically racing his lover there, sticking out his tongue childishly before he shut the door. Life was good.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas knelt beside the injured cat, feeling Aideen's eyes on him. While he'd gotten to move beyond practice and theory, getting to actually heal the animal, his sister, who was better than him at almost every other form of alchemy, could still only watch.

"Put your hands near the wounded leg," his Auntie said from above, "but not on it." Nicholas nodded, clapping his hands and placing them on the animal his aunt was restraining. Focusing on the task, he closed his eyes, using alchemy to move the chemicals in the animal's body, making it stop bleeding, then moving his mind entirely to the job of mending the open wound.

After he felt it was time to stop, he slowly pulled away, feeling Aideen hugging his shoulders. "You did it." He grinned up at her, quite proud of himself and was happy to see that she was too. "That was so cool." Nicholas could tell his sister was leaving off her own wish that she could do the same.

The cat, which Aideen had used medical alchemy to drug, looked around itself, somewhat dazed. Aideen looked prepared to remove the cat's dopey state, but their aunt stopped her. "Give it time to rest. What you did will wear off and if not, I can remove it."

Aideen nodded her head, though she looked disappointed. Nicholas knew she had a hair appointment in a half-hour and wouldn't get to finish their work with the cat, leaving their aunt to do it. Leave it to his sister that she could manage pain killers, endorphins, hormones in medical alchemy that he had yet to begin doing, but not the simple knitting transmutation that he had become almost an expert at.

Still, he knew his prowess over his sister wouldn't last long, as Fletcher had managed to determine her problems in their training together. It was a problem of focus and positive energy, or some Eastern-sounding crap like that. Nicholas didn't know. He preferred the incorporation technology Wrath was teaching him, as it was raw and driven mostly on almost primal drives. The last thing Nicholas would ever have to do before a training with Wrath was sit and meditate for an hour like Aideen did. Not that he thought his sister minded too much sitting next to Fletcher practicing breathing techniques, but that was just speculation on his part.

Aideen looked at the watch on her wrist. "I've got to go."

"I'll see you when you get home," Nicholas told her.

"And don't try to evade your guards again," Auntie chided her.

Aideen rolled her eyes. "I won't."

"And if I remember right," Nicholas looked up at his aunt as she spoke. "you have a check-up with Dr. Knox."

Nicholas had hoped she'd forget that. Though, it could have been worse. At his age, the idea that his aunt might be his doctor seemed a little strange. He preferred having a male doctor so that if or when issues came up, he didn't feel hugely embarrassed to talk to a female doctor, let alone one he was related to.

"I'll take care of the cat," she said. "You need to get yourself to your own appointment." He nodded and started to walk out of the door of the little clinic. "And Nicholas…" He looked back over his shoulder. "Good job."

0o0o0o0

Wrath walked beside Russell down the street of Central. The blond had offered to buy him a few books as penance for his cruel words about Jacob. Now, according to Wrath's conditions, they were going to a soda shop where Russell would sit down and at least have a drink of some kind with Wrath's boyfriend. It had taken some persuading, but honestly, Russell was his friend, all arguing aside, and he wanted him to like Jacob. It was important to him, more than he really thought it would be.

Wrath still felt guilty about the way he'd slammed Russell into that wall at Ed's birthday party, not because it had happened, since really it needed to after the way the older man had behaved. He regretted it because a few days after, he'd accidentally come upon Russell changing clothes while visiting Fletcher, and there were some nice bruises across his chest and shoulders. Of course, that hadn't been all he'd noticed about the lean figure he'd seen, but it was the part that he consciously blamed for causing him trouble.

"So, I hear you're going to get to help in the construction of the first Amestrian rocket," Russell said.

"The offer's been made, but I've been doing research with you. I don't want to abandon you."

"Think I can't handle it alone?" A blond eyebrow quirked upward, possibly the other, too, but Wrath couldn't see it beneath that ridiculous fringe of bangs.

"Of course," Wrath said, "but I was working with you first."

"I'd never expect you to pass up the chance to do that. Besides, you're the only person who has any experience in them. Doesn't it make more sense to have you on the project?"

"I suppose."

They were only a few doors away from the soda fountain when Wrath spotted a bakery with an enormous apple pie in the front, making him stop and stare for just a moment. It looked very good.

"What is it with you and apples?"

"On Earth, they were one of the easier fruits to get, so they kept me from living on candy all the time." He could see that Russell still wanted him to say more. "The very first thing I ate when I became human was an apple. It had been considered a treat at the orphanage for each of us to be given a slice. It was the first thing I'd ever eaten that made me feel satisfied, that I could really taste and enjoy. I'd eaten before, but it always felt empty, and I only half-tasted what was given to me."

"Hence the fact that you practically drool any time you see an apple dessert."

"That's a big part of it. I also like cinnamon, and they're usually put together."

"So it's a win-win."

Wrath nodded. They were there, and now, for some reason, he wasn't feeling too anxious about having Russell and Jacob together in the same building, let alone at the same table.

0o0o0o0

Ed was flanked by both Havoc and Frank as he entered the warehouse, Al close behind him. He hadn't really wanted his brother to come along, too afraid something would happen to the body they'd worked so hard to preserve, let alone the brother himself he'd always protect with his own life.

They walked into the warehouse, seeing nothing but a bunch of dusty, empty boxes that had already been searched a few days ago during the initial investigations. They had been certain there was nothing here, but after discovering the underground pathways beneath the other buildings, it was enough evidence to have shown them that beneath this could easily be anything, though Ed had a growing dread about this warehouse's contents, one he couldn't shake hard as he tried, and he was definitely trying. Havoc and Frank stepped just a bit ahead, moving toward a section of the floor.

"Lieutenant Colonel, do you want to do the honors?" Frank asked Ed.

Jaw set, Ed stepped forward, moving toward the corner facing west in the building. With a clap of his hands, Ed placed his hands on the floor, knowing what he needed to be visualizing after discovering the same result in four other warehouses. The boards of the floor parted, revealing a staircase and undoing a silencing transmutation.

When Ed heard the growls, his blood ran cold. "Not again," he muttered. He could almost sense his brother stiffening behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at Al, seeing that he was right as the taller brother's body seemed to have gone entirely rigid.

"Lieutenant Colonel Elric?" Havoc asked, using the formal title, when it was obvious he just wanted to say "Ed?"

"Chimeras, in pain." With no small amount of effort, Ed forced himself down the steps, taking a flashlight from his hip. There were growls, hisses, and the animal equivalent of screams. It had been several years since he had actually heard such noises, and all he could remember at that moment was when he had been younger even than his own children now were, staying at Shou Tucker's and facing what the man had done to Nina. Ed had never begrudged Roy entering him into the military, but that reference his husband had given him all those years ago to the Sewing Life Alchemist, that he still held some resentment for. Roy had no idea of course, but what little bits of his childhood had been left suffered irrevocably for the time in that house.

He knew that Frank and Havoc were still practically at his sides as he went down the darkened staircase, the noises getting louder as he did. He closed his eyes for just a second, just enough to prepare himself for what he was about to see and continued down the stone steps, moving the flashlight to reveal the first set of cages at the base of the staircase.

These chimeras seemed to be more nocturnal creatures, hissing and growling at both Ed and his light. As the light hit them, bulging eyes reflected in the darkness. It was hard to say what these things might have been originally, but they were perfect transmutations, inseparable by alchemy now that they'd been combined. And they looked hungry, as though they hadn't gotten their meal that day. Though, it was obvious someone had been down here caring for them, giving them food, water, everything they'd need, but seemed to ignore cleaning up after them.

Each cage-like cell had a stone wall with an alchemic symbol, one slightly obscured by the creature being housed inside. Without the opportunity to examine what it was, Ed didn't dare risk trying to perform alchemy to destroy these beasts. The symbols could mean anything, and he didn't dare set off a trap if he didn't need to.

Ed looked up at Frank, who stood with the arm of his uniform over his nose and mouth, whether to block out the smell or to keep from becoming sick, Ed didn't know. He imagined it was both.

Together, the group moved through the underground tunnels. There had to be at least a dozen of these nocturnal creatures, but to what purpose? And who was keeping them alive?

The proceeded further, finding the next hallway lit with torches, and at least two dozen more chimeras lining either side in heavy iron cages. He could now see that on the ceiling was a series of transmutation circles he'd become familiar with since blocking the Gate. They deadened the effect of alchemy directly below them. While they hadn't been effective for the purposes of blocking the gate, they would be for ensuring that the large and rather bloody transmutation circle just visible in the final twist of the underground chamber didn't affect the already-created monsters.

Ed was about to disable the circles, to find a way to block off the chimeras when there was a sudden noise, the sound of a large metal door clanging shut, making Ed and the others run toward the sound, to find the person, almost certainly Shou Tucker, as these chimeras bore every one of his trademarks. Ed did his best to ignore the sight of the blood and the fresh transmutation circle on the dirt and limestone floor as he focused only on the man he'd hated for more than half of his life. "Tucker!" Ed yelled as he ran. "Damn it, I know it's you, you freakish chimera. Where are you? What are these for?"

Turning to his left, Ed found the metal door that had been shut, only to hear the sound of a transmutation and excited noises from the chimeras within.

"Havoc, the men in the nocturnal chamber need to get out. Now! The rest need to come here before it's too late!"

The repeat visit to the gate along with the conversation he'd held with it allowed him at least some knowledge of what the last transmutation he'd sensed did. It was destroying the iron bars and releasing the chimeras, and the transmutation was complex and multi-stepped, far beyond anything Tucker would be capable of designing on his own. Ed tried to fight the transmutation, tried to stop it, but for every step he anticipated, there was another he hadn't. This was the handiwork of someone with even more skill and experience than his own, leaving only one person now undeniably alive who could have created this booby trap that ensured no one in that chamber was safe. He heard Havoc barking orders, but the screams had already begun. As troops flooded in around him, Ed pushed his way back toward the main chamber of chimeras, watching as Frank, Havoc, Fuery and the rest were shooting at the creatures, vainly attempting to stop the bloodthirsty chimeras, barely even stunning them.

He saw men on the ground, already falling victim. There was nothing more he could do for them, nothing he could do to save them as the chimeras proceeded to rip them apart. He did the only thing he could, the hardest decision he'd made in a very long time.

He clapped his hands and made a wall close between the chimeras and the remaining troops, cutting the chimeras off from their next meal and their victims off from their only chance, slim as it was, at escape. He then clapped again, transforming the rock and metallic elements above him into a siren, one that hopefully would sound enough like the one created after the first attack of the gate that the people above ground would take cover.

"Brother, those men, we can't leave them there," Al said.

"Do you want to be attacked? Do you want to be responsible for the injuries of the people here who are still safe? Right now, we have to break through to the surface. There's no way the opening over the staircase was closed in time, and even if it was, it was wood. These things are going to be out in the street, out in Central, where the entire population and _our families_ are." As he had been speaking, Ed moved toward the metal door, forcing it open and running through the remaining tunnels toward a dim light, the troops he'd closed off with him following behind.

"But," Al protested, obviously not wanting to leave those men to their fate.

"Al, come on," Frank said, harshly, pulling the tall, sandy-haired man with him. "It was a decision that had to be made. I'd have done the same." Al still looked hesitant. "There's a reason you aren't a military officer, Al."

Ed could only see them out of the corner of his eye, but when Al even looked to Fuery who nodded resolutely, it seemed enough to coerce him away from the muffled growls and the now-stopped screams.

At the moment, Ed's concern was not these troops, but Central itself, the people, his children, all possibly at the mercy of mindless chimeras. He hoped something had stopped them, but upon reaching the sunlight, he realized the hope was futile.

0o0o0o0

Dante had heard the siren and smiled to herself. Tucker had done exactly what he'd been told to do in case of an emergency, and the chimeras were now loose. The brat and his brother had gone down to investigate. She had to wonder if they had managed to survive, knowing that more than likely, the two little vermin did. They always had before in even the most desperate of situations.

Still, there was a part of her that wished she could use this to her advantage and make another philosopher's stone. There would be so much death and destruction that it seemed a pity not to benefit from it.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas heard the siren starting in the south end of Central. He felt his personal guard tugging at him, trying to get him to safety, but there was something wrong here, and he knew it. There was something very wrong and his sister was sitting in a salon in the southern part of the city not far from the location of the newly created siren, that for some reason had a long blond braid behind it.

"Nicholas," his guard called to him, "we need to get you to a shelter."

"Aideen—"

"Has someone who will make sure she's doing the same thing."

Nicholas nodded his head, and once the guard was convinced he'd agreed, the blond teen darted back through the crowd to his sister. Just hearing assurances from guards and military personnel wasn't going to work. He needed to know for absolute certain that his sister was safe.

He had been near the south to begin with, stopping at a favorite book store there, and he knew it wouldn't be a long trip to reach the salon. It was then that he saw it, some great creature, barreling through the streets like an ape on its feet and knuckles. It looked like some cross between a wolf, a monkey, and a lion, but in the most grotesque possible ways. It was getting closer, and he knew if he didn't stop it, this thing with muscles that flexed beneath its fur with every move would kill him instantly

Not even thinking about what he was doing, Nicholas clapped his hands and drove a spike from the ground through the thing's heart. He'd never killed anything before, and he knew that once the realization struck him of what he'd done, he would feel guilty. At the moment, his only concern was of his sister.

He ran through the streets, hearing inhuman noises and screams, but had yet to spot another of those things. Without concern for his own safety, he charged ahead, hearing his guard yelling for him in the distance. He just needed confirmation his twin was safe. That was all.

He neared the beauty shop, only half noticing as he stepped on a sprig of red flowers, and only noticing them because they seemed out of place. He saw the destruction outside of the little shop, saw bodies outside, saw the body of Aideen's personal guard mangled almost beyond recognition. Unfortunately for Nicholas, he'd managed to realize who the man was, and there was hesitation in his movements out of fear for what he might find next, a dread that he might never block out these images from his young mind.

He saw the shop had been barricaded, and noticed there was no sign of the monsters around it. He shouted for his sister, for anyone inside to answer him.

"We're in here," someone said. "Please, Aideen locked us in here to be safe, but we can't get out."

"She did that? She was okay?" Nicholas asked as he alchemically released the binding placed on the metal door.

"She was when she left," the woman said. "She'd just finished performing alchemy on my nearly dead plant," she gestured to a healthy-looking red begonia in the corner, "when those things started to attack. They would have gotten into the shop if it hadn't been for her, but she charged outside to fight them, yelling at them, attacking them. I think she scared them off, but we were trapped and don't know what's happened to her."

"There's an underground vault at the bank that is acting as a safe haven. Go there now. I saw people heading in just a minute ago, so it should still be safe," Nicholas ordered before running off, looking down at the red flowers, which Aideen had probably taken to show Fletcher she'd managed to make the plant bloom.

He needed to find her. Now.


	36. Chapter 36

_**Bar-Ohki**, Thanks. **Sadler**, yeah, I know what a fan you've become of those two. (Making me write a cookie about them)_

**Chapter 36 **

_Attack_

There were times being in the role of fuhrer was the most despicable position Roy could be given, and this was one of them; He knew that his entire family was in the line of danger, but in order to save them and the country, he had to give commands and organize an attack against the chimeras. The paternal part of his nature said that he needed to be out there fighting like a crazed animal, destroying as many of those chimeras as he possibly could to protect his family. The rational portion of his mind was arguing something entirely different, telling him that he needed to order troops in, take control of the situation because many troops under his command were far better than trying to go against these beasts on his own.

He barked out orders, Breda looking at him frightened. Armstrong already long gone into the battle, trying to find Rose, who'd been shopping in the south end earlier that day. The massive alchemist loved her, and once he saw his children were both safe, he would not be satisfied until he was given the opportunity to take troops into battle and find her.

"I should be doing the same," Roy muttered to himself.

"Sir?" Breda asked.

Roy considered making up some false answer, but the fact was Breda was his friend, and necessary to determine if Roy's actions were due to his family's danger or those of a rational leader.

"I said I should be doing the same as Armstrong. I'm embarrassed that I've only managed to stay here."

"You're better off here commanding the rest of us. You know that. It's your strategies out there saving your family, even if it can't be you physically." Breda patted Roy on the back and walked toward one of the lieutenants reporting back.

"Breda, you know there are some times you show that you graduated top of your class at the academy."

"Thanks, Fuhrer," Breda said with a faint smile.

Standing at his office, sadly the city had become enough of a battleground that from his own office window, high up in the Central Office, he could observe all of the happenings. The large desk had become a place for maps and radios, his office a hub for strategic planning. They had to find a way to attack the chimeras without injuring the citizens in town. He had to save his people and his husband and children, and he had to do it quickly.

Russell watched in awe as Wrath faced off against the chimera, no transmutation circle needed. He was left with the rather dubious task of defending the boyfriend and the rest of the soda shop. Kneeling next to him, the mousy-looking man looked out the window, as Russell donned a set of leather gloves which would allow him to do stone alchemy—he'd given up his efforts on plant alchemy a long time ago, Fletcher regularly teasing that he was trying to become more like Ed.

Outside, Wrath was leaping almost unnaturally, his fists melded together with metal and stone, baring his teeth looking almost animalistic. He was attacking one of those monstrosities, then the next. Angrily, he pounded away, not allowing the somewhat stiff clothes to restrict his movement as he broke strong, thick bones with each impact of his alchemically enhanced fists.

Unable to control himself, Russell was cheering Wrath on, while working to block his view of the unbelievable fight going on outside by barricading the soda shop. With a rather loud crash, Wrath sent the cat-like creature flying into the next building, and with a howl that escaped his own lips, Russell jumped up in enthusiastic victory. He couldn't help it, breaking his usual reserved demeanor in public and certainly even the usual argumentative nature with Wrath. As he continued to extend the brick walls of the shop to cover over the glass walls, he watched as the former homunculus demonstrated the most incredible alchemic and fighting display the elder Tringham had ever seen.

He looked to Jacob, who suddenly looked sick.

"Don't worry, Wra… um… Ulysses will take care of it."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jacob said, turning away from the one remaining window, while Russell went to block it entirely. He didn't ask any questions because honestly, he didn't care. If the little mouse couldn't manage to watch a little fight, then he wasn't worth the alchemist's time, and he certainly didn't think he deserved the former homunculus's either.

He had the final window nearly blocked and took in the sight of Wrath pouncing on a bear-like beast, being tossed backwards into the wall next to Russell's observant eyes, his transformed hands clawing into the wall, glancing in the shop at Russell for just a second before pushing himself off and onto the creature's back, the last thing Russell heard when the wall was finally closed was the sound of the thing crying out before Wrath finished it off.

And yet, despite the amazing display and the knowledge that Wrath was more than capable of handling himself, Russell was afraid for him, hoping that he would be okay.

Ed broke through the underground area, bursting through the ground, almost immediately finding one of those things biting at his arm.

"What the hell is it with you chimeras? Why do you keep insisting on attacking that arm?" With an almost sadistic grin, he looked over at the thing. "Can't find a decent grip?"

He punched the thing in the face. It was a bit stunned, being one of the nocturnal creatures and in the bright sun of early afternoon. It took very little to dispatch of, and he found Al was holding his own nearby, creating spikes and walls to kill the beasts or at least divert them from the people still trying to find shelter.

He watched as Frank and Fuery ran off, going after a bat-like creature, trying to shoot it down as it tried to take off in flight. Havoc and a few of the men who had been saved below were trying go after some of the other nocturnal creatures, as they were the more immediate threat, the others seeming to have scattered into the brighter areas of town these were reluctant to enter.

Hand transformed into a spike, Ed began stabbing at the next creature he came across, the blood running down the crevices of the automail. No matter how many times he had to do this, to knowingly kill something, it was difficult. He didn't know if it was because of the act itself or the images of Nina as one of these things. Then the thought of Nina, the idea that Tucker had to be working with Dante renewed his rage. He was once again attacking with all the anger he had in him, cutting at these things almost beyond what was required, becoming the killing machine necessary to defend his city, to protect his children who were somewhere in it.

Frank felt his heart stop when he saw Kain go down. Gun blazing, he ran after the bat thing Kain had managed to finally shoot to the ground. Wounded as it was, it was still trying to crawl its way to hurt the one who'd hurt it. Frank fired a round into the thing, hearing it give a defeated squawk. He reloaded the gun and fired again, shooting until he was absolutely certain the thing was dead and ran to Kain. He saw a growing pool of blood around his lover's head and a definite laceration on the man's thigh.

"Kain!" he yelled, kneeling down beside the young colonel. "Kain!"

"Thing got me in the head," the man muttered, his glasses skewed.

"You're alive!" Frank nearly hugged Kain, but he realized that the fresh blood seemed to be drawing even more of those things to them. "We need to get you out of here. Can you walk?" It seemed that was a definite no when Kain attempted to sit up. Without a second thought, he scooped Kain into his arms.

"Good thing you've been doing all that working out," Kain joked as Frank lifted him up and began carrying him to the nearest building.

"I'll need you to shoot them until I can get you somewhere safe."

"Vision's a little wonky, as you'd say, but I can manage it."

Entering the nearly abandoned home, Kain's blood dripping in a perfect trail behind them, Frank shut and barricaded the door. "Kain, I hate to ask you this, but you're going to need to treat your wounds, if you can. These things are going to find another entrance, and I'm going to need to hold them off."

Kain grunted and took a piece of cloth offered to him by Frank, as well as the small first aid kits on both of their waists. Frank began firing at the creatures from the miniscule window not far from the door, trying to do all he could to frighten these things away.

"Frank," Kain called. "Frank!" Frank turned around, only to find Kain single-handedly tossing him a bottle of liquor, as his other hand was applying pressure to the cut on the top of his head.

"You want to have a drink at a time like this?" Frank asked, knowing that wasn't what his little lover had in mind.

"Don't be stupid," Kain said. "Put a rag in it, and light it. It might scare these nighttime creatures."

"You shouldn't be able to think clearly with a gash in your head and a chunk out of your leg, you know."

"Be glad I can."

He was obviously in pain, trying to smile through it, but knowing Kain was still lucid helped matters just a bit, helped Frank focus only on trying to kill their inhuman enemy and not on trying to play nurse to his boyfriend. He ripped a piece of the curtain off and jammed it down in the bottle, lighting the fabric and tossed it out the open window receiving exactly the response that Kain had said it would. Those things looked somewhat blinded and fearful of the fire, and while they were stunned, Frank continued to fire at those things until he'd drawn enough blood that they started attacking one another, already incensed by their blood lust, they took ripping one of their own to shreds to fulfill that need. Seeing they were capable of attacking their own, he continued firing until all were wounded and it became a frenzy among the animals.

Turning back to Kain, not liking that the younger man was so quiet, he found his boyfriend had passed out, midway through treating the injury to his leg. Feeling he was safe enough for the moment to turn away from the window, he closed the tiny thing and went over to Kain, lightly smacking him on the face.

When the eyes behind the blood-splattered glasses fluttered open, he once again pulled Kain into his arms. "We need to get you to the clinic. It's the safest place I can think of, and I think those little beasties are a bit distracted at the moment."

"Uh-huh."

Finding a back route, Frank ran outside, finding Armstrong's wife not far ahead of him. "Rose," he yelled out. "Rose!"

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Frank!"

"Rose, let me catch up to you. Take the gun from me and fire if you see any of those things."

She nodded and did exactly as he'd instructed. She probably wasn't an expert shock, but must have improved, as Armstrong would want his wife to be able to protect herself.

"What happened to Kain?" she asked.

"I need to get him to the clinic. Raine should still be there." Frank only hoped that he could get his lover there in time, as the warmth of Kain's blood had begun to seep through Frank's uniform coat and to his stomach.

Nicholas had asked everyone he spotted for any sign of his sister, but they said she wasn't there at the moment, that the chimeras seemed to be following her and she tried to lure them away from the civilians. It was as though she understood these things wouldn't leave her alone, they said. Ignoring the distant shouts from his guard and others to tell him to stop, the blond teen ran along the pathway of those who said they'd seen her.

In his path, there was yet another of these chimeras, another thing he'd have to kill just to survive, one more thing, grotesque and terrifying as they were, that his young mind would have to wrap around having destroyed.

Aideen was all that was on his mind at the moment. He didn't understand much of what was going on, but he did know that if his sister thought she could help things by luring the threat away from the people of Central, she'd do it even at a risk to herself. Imagining that maybe this thing had already gotten to his sister, that maybe she'd had to fight it, he had no qualms punching the monster with his stone incorporated hand, before spearing it with another stone pike.

Before he could react, he felt the sharp piercing pain of something at his left arm. He immediately swung his right hand around to find some kind of reptile blend with a fang in his left wrist. The hand, with its incorporated stone, collided with the thing's head, doing almost immediate damage before he even had to spear at the creature as he had the last. His left hand bleeding, he held it to his chest and continued running.

Raine had been dealing with the number of casualties, with only the help available at the clinic, which was mostly a small number of nurses, one other doctor, and some technicians and aides. The problem was they simply did have the equipment and medication available for the injuries.

Much to her surprise, she found Frank carrying Kain with Rose firing at some lizard-creature, the worst of the chimeras, as far as Raine had discovered, as the bites almost certainly held venom of some kind, and usually of such a combination there was no true antidote, leaving only drawing the venom out of the victim as an option.

"Please," Frank said, with desperation in his voice, "please check him."

"What was he attacked by?" she asked, while still treating another's wounds, Frank placing Kain on an open cot.

"Some sort of bat creature," Frank answered as Rose continued to fire out of a small slot along with a few of the other soldiers who were firing at two of those monsters outside. "It clawed him on his head and then his leg. He's lost a lot of blood."

Raine nodded, moving to Kain, laying her hands on either side of the wounds on the leg and sealing them at least well enough that the bleeding had stopped, then moved to his head. "Frank, do you know what kind of blood type he is?"

"A positive."

"See if we have any in storage and have one of the nurses hook him up."

"I'm O positive, if you don't."

"We'll come to that if we need it." Frank nodded and ran off to the supply room. Raine patted Kain's shoulder as she moved to another patient, silently hoping to the Gate or any higher power that might be out there that this all ended soon and her brother's friend, hell her friend, would be okay, knowing that at least, the wounds weren't terribly deep, though he had lost quite a bit of blood in a short amount of time.

Finally as he entered an office on the second floor of a building in the business district, Nicholas spotted his sister, feeling strangely weak as he saw her shadow cast against a window. This district, being a usual day off for businesses, was almost completely deserted and below at the side opposite where he'd come in, there were still two chimeras attempting to get in the building.

"Aideen," he said to his sister. He watched as she looked over her shoulder, long black hair somewhat obscuring her face. "You're okay…" his voice drifted off as he felt himself slumping against the doorframe.

As though smacked across the face by his sudden weakness, Aideen came running to him.

"Nicholas!"

Half-delirious, he hardly noticed the moment he hit the floor, only hearing his sister yelling for him and trying to transmute something for him to lay on.

"Nicholas, stay with me!" He felt her hand on his face. It was so warm, and he was starting to feel so cold. "Why did you follow me?" She began inspecting his body for the injury, and though he tried to lift his hand to show it to her, his left arm seemed immobilized. "This is all my fault."

She moved her hands to his arm, the source of a great deal of pain at this moment and began trying to perform medical alchemy on him. He might have argued under other circumstances, but he no longer had the energy.


	37. Chapter 37

_**RosalieAnne**, you get to see this chapter how Nicholas will turn out. **Bar-Ohki**, yep, they are gettng bad. **Verscilith**, I'm sorry to hear about the family crisis. I hope things are better for you. Thanks for the review and continuing to read._

**Chapter 37 **

_Hands_

Al had difficulty at times keeping from focusing on his older brother, watching as he viciously attacked at the chimeras, slowly covering himself in their blood. While it was true that as he fought, Al was doing no less damage than Ed, his methods didn't leave his hair stained red, and there was no relish in killing, even these vile creations.

Al continued performing his transmutations, watching as Ed punched, slashed and kicked before any of these beasts managed the slightest hint of an attack. Ed was a military man, where Al was simply an alchemist. He realized that, little as he wanted to. He had proven time and time again that he didn't have the coping skills necessary to deal with killing that his older brother did.

"Al!" Ed yelled out, a signal that he needed his younger brother to work with him at some coordinated attack.

Running to Ed's side, Al saw his older brother signal with his thumb for Al to toss him up to where he could begin an attack on the largest of the chimeras so far, beginning with the thing's back. Al bent down, creating a stirrup with his hands and felt Ed's blood-soaked hand, making contact with his white shirt as he attempted to balance himself.

Ed wasn't the easiest person in the world to toss up, and Al silently wished that the older man was just a bit lighter or that it could be as simple as it had been when Al had been in the armor. Those thoughts passed as Ed was hurtled haphazardly through the air and landed squarely on the top of the monstrosities arched back, grabbing hold of a handful of fur with his left hand, right almost immediately stabbing not only to fight but to ensure he didn't fall from the rather impressive height.

Al proceeded to attack from below, hearing his brother practically growl as he assaulted the thing from above. He heard the creature cry out as death must have finally gripped it, and felt the sensation of something warm splattering his cheek.

"Al, it's coming down. Move!"

Al obeyed, watching as the creature's lifeless legs gave way and nearly crushed the tall alchemist below it. Almost gracefully, Ed landed beside it, his chest rising and falling. He could still do what needed to be done, but it was obvious it no longer came as easily to him.

"We need to get to the salon," Ed said as he took up to run from the now weakened chimeras that were somewhat less of a threat to the military men shooting at them. "If Dante is behind this, and I'm sure she is, Aideen could be in danger."

Al nodded, more than willingly following to protect his niece who could be more than just in danger, but be the target of all of this. They encountered some kind of lizard beast, one with blood already dripping down its mouth and a large welt on the top of its head. It was obviously still stunned, and it seemed as though its attacker had been far too interested in something else to finish the job. It required no effort from Al to kill the thing, as Ed easily slashed at it and before glancing down at the lifeless beast before running on much faster than before.

"Nicholas was here, too," Ed said as he ran voice cracking either from the physical exertion or from alarm for now both twins' safety. Al didn't question how his brother knew that, as the twins' father, realizing that he must have known better than anyone the signs of his son's alchemy. And Al had the sickening realization that if Nicholas had been the one to punch that thing, there was also a strong possibility that it had been his blood trickling out of the corners of the beast's mouth.

"Frank?" Kain croaked, eyes opening as he felt his lover's hand wrapped around his own.

"So sleeping beauty decided to wake up."

"Sleeping… what?"

"A story from my home about a princess under a magic spell, forcing her to sleep until she received her true love's kiss." Frank leaned over the cot and very carefully placed his lips to Kain's. "I'll have to tell you the whole thing once we have you home. And by home, I mean here. You're going to have to go through therapy for that leg of yours, so don't expect to be going to the east for some time." Frank kissed the back of Kain's hand. "Ever, if I have anything to say about it."

"I outrank you."

"Mm-hmm," Frank said, lips against the back of Kain's hand. "But I'm older."

Knowing Frank was there, Kain started to allow himself to drift off to sleep once again.

"Oh, no you don't. I've been trying to get you awake, and I'm supposed to keep you awake now that I have you here conscious."

"Then, you're going to have to talk."

"Fine, about what?"

"Why me?" That was a question Frank wouldn't normally answer, but maybe with the recent attack he'd finally get something out of his boyfriend.

Frank sighed. "This is going to sound stupid, but it was your hands."

"My hands?"

"Told you it would sound stupid." Kain rubbed Frank's cheek. "Like that. You do that, and yet you can still readily handle a weapon." Kain watched as once again Frank leaned down to kiss him. "I love you and your kisses, but this," Frank laid his hand over Kain's on his face. "is what makes you so different."

"You're a great big sap, you know that?"

"Well, I told you. What about me? Why me?"

"Well, you intrigued me when you took the punch from the fuhrer without flinching or trying to be a weasel afterwards." Kain wasn't sure how to continue. "But I think I started thinking about you this way the moment I watched you carry your friend from the scene of the crash, even cry over him."

"Shed a few over you, too." Kain only smiled as the older man delicately pressed their lips together.

Fletcher was investigating the business district, a bag full of marked seeds on his shoulder. He'd already had to use them once in order to restrain and kill what he'd been told was one of the two things capable of flight, and had heard there were two more attempting to enter an accounting firm in this district. The only reason they would be attempting this was if there was someone inside the building. He saw the two monsters, unsure what they might have been initially, as they no longer resembled anything the alchemist had ever seen before.

They seemed to be attempting to scale the wall of the building, trying to reach something on an upper floor. It was then that he heard the shouts, a voice from upstairs that made him feel ill to know was the one trapped inside.

"Fletcher!" He looked up, seeing a dark head looking through one of the upper story's windows. "Fletcher, help! Nicholas has been hurt!"

Alchemically activating the transmutation circles on the seeds, he tossed handful in front of those creatures, watching as tendrils of vines wrapped themselves around the two chimeras. Transmuting the door Aideen or Nicholas had likely sealed, he ran inside, hearing the sounds of the once-animals being strangled behind him, and the noise as they both put up the last futile attempts to live. He ran up the two flights of steps to find Aideen trying to wheel Nicholas through the hallway on the makeshift gurney created from what looked like three rolling chairs.

"This was the best I could do, but it doesn't move right," she said, obviously fighting back tears that threatened to overflow. "And I don't know how to get him down to Auntie."

"What happened?" Fletcher asked as he looked closely at the blond teen, who seemed to be struggling to remain conscious and incapable of speech.

"Something bit him. There was venom in his system. I got most of it out, but it's a lot of damage."

Fletcher lifted Nicholas from the gurney, not entirely sure how far he could carry the young Mustang, but knowing he could handle the distance to the clinic if there weren't any delays.

"Let's go."

Aideen only nodded, leading the way down the stairs and into the streets, where the noise of the fighting was gradually dying down. Running ahead of him, as though daring any of those things to try to attack her or her brother again, Aideen was almost frightening in the representation of all three parents' resolve boiled down into her young body. It was not often Aideen was compared to her mother as Nicholas resembled her far more, but this protective streak seemed reminiscent of stories of Riza Hawkeye's fierce defensiveness of her commanding officer and lover.

The teen in Fletcher's arms grunted a bit, coal black eyes opening just enough. "Hey Nicholas," Fletcher huffed, trying to keep up with Aideen. "We're going to get you to your Aunt Raine, okay?"

There was a faint nod and the teen's eyes rolled back into his head. The fact that Nicholas was fighting this so strongly was nothing short of amazing. Ten years ago, when he was the same age, Fletcher seriously doubted he'd have had even that kind of energy.

"Fletcher!" Aideen hissed loudly enough he could hear her. "I can hear them. They're coming."

Though she had obviously heard before he did, the young man realized she was right. He picked up his pace, knowing that somehow those chimeras would overtake him at his already hurried stride. With the startling realization that he was probably going to have to fight, leaving Nicholas defenseless and delaying his treatment.

Three of those things approached, and Fletcher prepared to give Aideen the task of guarding her brother while he fought, only to find the young girl stopping dead in her tracks, hands in fists at her sides. She moved to Fletcher's side, clapping her hands and holding them out toward the approaching creature. Then, with whatever transmutation it was she was performing, her voice echoed across the abandoned area of town.

"Get away and stay the hell away from my brother!"

The three creatures began to be thrown backwards into buildings, where their bodies were practically snapped in half.

"Holy shit!" a voice said from one of the alleys.

"Dad!" Aideen said, running to him.

Fletcher couldn't help but notice how quickly the fearsome expression on Ed's face disappeared the moment he saw his son. Aideen seemed to notice not the expression, but the state which Ed was in, unwilling to hug him, for fear of the mess all over him at the moment. Al, who was not quite so bad, went to her, catching her as she wobbled just a bit from the amount of energy she'd used to shove away those monsters.

"Dad, all that blood."

"None of it is mine," he said.

"Dad, please, we've got to get Nicholas to Auntie! It's some kind of venom."

"Fletcher, can you manage it? I don't want to shift him too much if I don't have to," Ed said, sounding calm, though there was a definite quavering in his voice, showing his true worry for Nicholas.

Ahead of Fletcher, Al scooped Aideen into his own arms.

"I can still walk, Uncle Al."

"Humor me," he said as they all moved toward the clinic, a grimy and frightening-looking Ed keeping watch for any more.

The moment they were within the clinic, Al set Aideen to her feet immediately within the door, Fletcher walking a few steps further and laying Nicholas on the first available cot. When Raine glanced up and saw that Nicholas was now among her patients, Fletcher saw as she paled, finishing her orders to the nearest nurse. Moving through the sea of beds and cots, she clapped her hands so they were ready to analyze Nicholas the instant she was near him.

"Baby," she said with a casual tone that Fletcher felt certain would get anyone else killed when addressing Ed, "what happened?"

"Something bit him and left venom in his system," Aideen answered before Ed could even try. "I forced as much of it out as I could, but he's still like this."

"You did a good job," the eldest Mustang said before closing her eyes.

"He wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't been at the salon at all today, or if I'd have stayed there…"

"Aideen," Raine said, "you did a very good job. The venom's gone. Now we just need to treat what it did to his body."

"You understand, Aideen, you did the only thing you could. You can't help your brother went running out after you." Ed moved to comfort Aideen.

"Don't take another step. I don't want chimera blood all through my already sanitarily-compromised clinic. Go out to the decontamination unit at the side and get washed off." She looked at Al. "You too." Ed looked reluctant. "He'll live, Ed, I promise you that," Raine said with confidence that showed them all she wasn't lying or even trying to merely be optimistic. Nicholas would live.

"What was that blast?" Russell asked as Wrath walked through the re-transmuted door. "We don't know, but it scared the chimeras, not to mention a good number of the soldiers too. The chimeras that were left were all fleeing the city"

"You mean they didn't run off from just you?" Russell asked, a grin on his face so big, it startled the former homunculus. "You were unbelievable."

Against his own will, Wrath felt his face go just a bit red at the rare praise from his friend. "Thanks." He looked around the shop. "Jacob?"

A set of blue eyes looked up from behind one of the booths, and much to Wrath's disillusionment, those eyes held both loathing and fear. And while everyone in the little place was cheering him on, calling him a hero, all he could see was the look in the eyes of the man he cared for, the one who seemed to say silently he would always be a monster.

With the threat of the chimeras gone and the news that his son had been injured, Roy no longer had any reason capable of or threatening enough to keep him from his family. With Breda driving the car to Raine's clinic, Roy swore he was carrying a ton of stones in his stomach, all turning over one another, threatening to make him sick. Why wasn't there some kind of rule that stated your child could only suffer from poisoning once? Or that children couldn't be pulled into the issues of adults?

Why wasn't there some kind of equivalence when it came to his twins?

It was all Roy could do not to shut down and go numb as he had those years before. Emotionally blocking everything certainly sounded appealing. He couldn't break down, he couldn't show weakness because among those many casualties, his child was one. He had to show that above all else, he was concerned, but also remained strong.

Breda hardly touched the brakes outside fo the clinic before Roy had leapt out, trying to spot any sign of his family. Instead, he found Frank, seated next to Fuery, gripping tightly onto the smaller man's hand and touching his face. Those blue eyes met his black and signaled to the fuhrer that his child and his family were at the makeshift surgery area behind the clinic.

Roy only half-glanced at Fuery, who was awake, but looked somewhat delirious, then back at Frank, feeling all the more sickened by the look of actual worry in the former spy's face, worry that didn't seem directed at his wounded boyfriend.

Roy found Ed pacing the hall, clad in nothing more than a medical gown, one hand clutching the rear to hold it shut, his hair resembling a wet dog's. He saw Aideen on a bench beside Fletcher Tringham, face buried in his chest, repeating over and over that whatever was going on was all her fault, and with him repeating just as frequently that she had no reason to blame herself.

Al, who must have been able to keep his undershirt and pants during decontamination, appeared to have been bouncing back and forth between Aideen and Ed all this time. Even after being the shoulder to cry on for all these years, something had Al at a bit of a loss.

"Ed?" Roy said, voice cracking just a bit as he began to unbutton his uniform coat. "Nicholas, how is he?"

Ed looked up at him, not with that determined attitude Roy had gotten to know during all these years of marriage during moments of disaster and strife. No, this was an Ed who was horribly shaken.

Roy took off his coat and draped it over his husband's shoulders, letting him put the thing on and offer a bit of cover for his backside. He listened as Ed told him the story as best he could, Roy doing his best to grasp the concept that his sister had assured them that Nicholas would be okay, that the greatest concern at the moment was Nicholas's arm. Roy put his arm around Ed, and sat beside Aideen—Fletcher had more than willingly giving up his seat to Roy—though Ed continued to pace the moment Roy sat down. He held his daughter close to him, feeling her tears through his white dress shirt and her body tense in her guilt.

When Raine appeared from the swinging doors of the operating room, she carried with her two masks. "I need to talk to the two of you. Nicholas asked that he get to listen in."

Roy stood up, Al taking his place beside Aideen.

Ed watched, holding the cloth mask over his nose and mouth, as Raine revived Nicholas. The large onyx eyes opened, looking up at the three adults.

"You kept your promise, Auntie," he said, weakly, moving just enough that he winced in pain. "My arm."

"That's what we need to talk to you about. Aideen acted as quickly as she could, but your arm is our problem now." Raine looked from her nephew to Ed and Roy. "I'm not going to spare details. You understand that, Nicholas?"

"Uh-huh."

Ed waited, dreading what words might follow. "The most intense portion of the venom did not spread as fast as what went through his bloodstream." She ran a hand over his light blond hair. "But near the site of the puncture, it destroyed tissue which is already showing signs of early infection and Nicholas's white blood cells are attacking at his own body."

"Can the tissue be removed?" Ed asked.

"It can, but we're not certain just how much will be necessary, and even if we do, I'm afraid it will be a constant source of pain."

"Then get rid of it," Nicholas said, making all three adults look down at him in stunned silence. Though Nicholas looked exhausted, it was obvious that he wasn't taking this lightly.

"You don't know what you're saying," Ed said. "You're young, you don't understand what it is—"

"I'm two years older than you. And it can be replaced with automail."

"Automail isn't the same, Nicholas, take my word on it."

Raine rubbed Ed's shoulder. "I know that isn't what you want for him, but, the amount of damage done isn't reversible, and I don't know if we can just remove the tissue."

"Raine," Roy said, finally speaking up. "Can you try to save the arm?" Nicholas glared in protest, though Ed felt somewhat satisfied. "But if you can't save it…"

Roy didn't seem capable of finishing, not any more than Ed was capable of imagining it.

"Of course," Raine squeezed Roy's shoulder, her right hand never leaving Nicholas's hair.

"How soon does this need to happen?" Roy asked.

"With how quickly the infection seems to be growing and spreading, as well as the way this is affecting his immune system, immediately."

Ed watched as Nicholas's attempts at being strong faded and his chest began rising and falling rapidly, in failing efforts to fight off the tears. Both fathers rubbed their son's shoulders, cheeks, trying to comfort the teenager, so like a child in his anguish so like an adult in his acceptance. "Nicholas, we might be able to wait a day," Raine said.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, get it over with."

Nicholas's right arm, the left having apparently no function at all left, covered over his eyes as the tears ran freely and the fathers were given some time to comfort their son.

As Nicholas's fever seemed to increase by tiny increments, the two men knew they couldn't stall the inevitable any longer. Reluctantly, they left the room, going back to the hall where Aideen was waiting, not yet ready to tell their daughter what was happening, but as Ed found himself freely crying, there really was no secret, and he knew it.

"He shouldn't—" Ed quickly sucked air through clenched teeth. "Not this young, not like me." Nicholas had no idea what was in store. He couldn't begin to comprehend it, not the pain, not the freakishness of being permanently different from the rest of the world. And yet, could he ask his son to suffer daily with pain? Could he seriously consider that as an option for his boy? Hadn't he actually had the nerve to do so just moments before?

He found himself being gathered into Roy's arms, Aideen and Al doing the same, and they stood in the hallway, comforting one another. And when Ed heard the faint, distinctive sound of the bone saw through the doors that simply weren't designed to keep these kinds of noises within their respective areas, the alchemist who had seen and done so much that day, broke, relying on the support of his family to keep him upright. He could be strong through so much, but just couldn't imagine being strong through this, and for once, Ed thought he was entitled to his weakness.


	38. Chapter 38

_**Sadler, **not quite so much Kain and Frank here._

**Chapter 38 **

_Shocks and Beginnings_

It felt strange, to be completely honest. Nicholas was somewhere between floating and feeling completely numb. Vaguely in his mind, he remembered his fathers' words to him, what he had been going into surgery for. His dad had been really upset about something, something about how his arm was hurt. His papa had just kept rubbing over his right shoulder, holding his hand.

His dad hadn't grabbed hold of his left, though, probably because it was hurting him so bad. It didn't hurt now. Nothing hurt now.

Staying like this wouldn't be so bad. He'd have to talk to his aunt about making this state permanent. He bet if everyone felt this good, there'd never be another war. His parents wouldn't have to fight anymore.

He remembered his dad looking pretty gruesome, covered in blood, but he'd just been wet and in his papa's fuhrer uniform coat the last time he saw him. It was way too big for him, too. It was really funny since he'd had on a kid's hospital gown too, with little trains all over it.

That had been funny.

Except, the look on his face wasn't. There was something about automail being painful, and he supposed his father knew better than anyone, but why did that matter? And what had that been about Aunt Winry setting him up with the very best?

Why did he need automail?

His arm. It had been damaged, swollen and purple in color midway up his forearm and all over his hand. Had they taken it?

He tried to look, but couldn't move, couldn't really see any part of his body. He tried to look again.

"He's fighting the drugs," a voice said. It was his auntie.

Why couldn't he look? He just wanted to see. He wanted to see if his arm was there. He couldn't feel it, but he couldn't exactly _not_ feel it either.

"Can you bring him out of it slowly?" That was his papa. He loved his voice, even though he didn't think his own would ever be so low. And it was a little raspy like his dad's, like he smoked cigarettes. Though it was funny that General Havoc had always smoked when he was younger and didn't sound like it.

"He's calming down. It has to be your voice. You both need to talk to him, then I'll try bringing him around." That was right. He'd been upset about something, about… his arm. His left arm.

"I'm… I'm here, Nicholas." Why did his dad sound like he was crying? The arm must have been gone. His dad would have been happy if they'd saved it.

"We're both here." He could feel the warmth of his aunt's alchemy on him. He didn't feel quite so sleepy, but he still felt like he was resting on a cloud. He felt aware of his dad's automail hand wrapped around his own right, holding him like they were about to start an arm wrestle. One Nicholas would surely have lost in his current state. He felt another hand at his head, fingers going through his hair. They went through his coarse blond locks easily, so it had to be his papa. His dad's hand always got caught.

He attempted to open his eyes. That really shouldn't have been a struggle. Once he finally got them pried open, he wished he hadn't. The florescent lights above him hurt.

"Nicholas?" his Aunti asked. "How do you feel?"

"Not so tired…" he lazily rolled his eyes to look at her. "But really, really good."

"He's still on the painkillers," she said, as though she was explaining to his father's the reason for his answer. He didn't think there was a need to explain. He'd meant it when he said he felt good. Why shouldn't he?

"Nicholas, do you have any idea what happened?" his dad asked.

"I went into surgery about my arm." He turned his head to his left, now that he remembered. He saw his shoulder was still there, his upper arm too, but as he looked to his elbow, he saw that it just stopped, no elbow even, really. It looked like that joint was gone, too. His forearm, his hand, his fingers were all gone. "But it was only halfway to my elbow, the funny purple color."

"The infection was further than that," his papa said, moving his hand to Nicholas's sweaty forehead. "And it was spreading fast."

"And automail needs a joint or single bone to attach to," his dad said. Nicholas didn't like the tone of his dad's voice. It was cold, harsh. It was the one he used when he was trying to pretend everything was okay. But it wasn't; even in his drug-induced haze, Nicholas realized that.

Wrath all but collapsed against the shower wall in his tiny apartment. Jacob had thought he was a monster, he'd hated him, been disgusted by him. And those three words he'd asked him, looking at Wrath, blue eyes looking more like ice than the oceans he'd once thought they were.

_"What are you?"_

He was human. He had the beating heart, the soul, the body, but his instincts were and always would be something different. With his strength and his acrobatic body, Wrath would always be capable of seemingly superhuman feats, and his first reaction would be to do them.

Worst of all was Russell, who was currently unconscious on Wrath's couch. He'd gotten so angry and Jacob, he'd tried to attack him. Much as Wrath had been hurt, he didn't want his boyf… ex-boyfriend injured, and it seemed a terribly unfair fight against the thin, shorter man. It would have been as fair as Russell beating up his little brother.

In the act of defense of Jacob, Wrath had tried to simply stop Russell, unfortunately knocking him out. Why did the older man insist on defending him? Wrath certainly wasn't a weakling, and if being with Edward in Germany hadn't taught him to cope with insults, nothing would.

He didn't cry as he leaned against the tiles, letting the heat—that knowing his plumbing, would end soon—penetrate his aching muscles and calm him. He'd been given a human body, but was he really human?

"Where the hell do you get off?" He heard an angry voice say before the curtain of his shower was unceremoniously pulled back, leaving him standing totally naked in front of Russell Tringham.

And Russell seemed to be staring.

"Not only do you have Ed's arm and leg, but somehow, you managed to be part horse, too…" Russell said just loudly enough that Wrath could hear it over the pounding water.

Wrath turned off the water that was slowly growing colder. "Where do I get off?" he asked grabbing hold of a nearby towel and wrapping it around his waist. "How about knocking or announcing your presence before barging in on someone in the shower?" Strange, though, even as Wrath raised his voice, he didn't feel embarrassed at what Russell had seen.

"How about just restraining someone instead of putting them in a sleeper hold?"

Wrath folded his arms across his chest. "I'm sorry, but I was furious you weren't going to let me fight my own battle."

"Fight?" Russell asked, throwing his arms up in the air. "That wasn't fighting. That was all but agreeing with what the twerp said."

Russell walked into the cool air of the single room of the apartment, Wrath following, making every dark hair on his chest stand on end.

"It isn't any of your business if I did," Wrath said, growing angry, not to mention wishing he was wearing just a bit more than a towel.

Russell was staring at him strangely. "What?"

"You shave your armpits, and legs. I've seen proof you're not a woman, but—"

"One's blond, one's jet black. You figure it out." Wrath stepped closer, watching as Russell, rather than backing off remained firmly planted in place, hands in his pockets. "And you're changing the subject. What was your problem today? If I scared Jacob, it was his right to say so."

"And if I want to defend the most amazing display of alchemy and pure animalism I've ever seen, then I will."

Violet eyes narrowed. "You think I'm an animal?"

"I think what I saw was primal and raw."

"Then why do you seem so excited by it?" Wrath said, backing Russell into the arm of the sofa.

"Because it was exciting, because it was powerful and incredible. Because fighting today, you looked like you could take on anything." Russell looked up at Wrath smugly. "Little did I know you could be put in your place by some worthless little weasel."

"He's not a weasel," Wrath said, shoving Russell down over the arm of the sofa and standing between the blond's legs. "He's sweet, kind, and—"

"Horribly afraid of what he doesn't understand. He is the most pathetic thing I've ever seen, and you're nearly as bad for picking him."

Wrath grabbed Russell by the collar. "Watch what you say."

Then, Wrath found himself struck in the jaw. "Get your hands off me. I need to find out where my brother is, and I can't do that if you knock me out again."

Before he knew it to stop himself, Wrath was punching Russell in the arm.

"Son of a bitch!"

"I didn't knock you out."

"No, but if you want to take out your anger at the little wuss you dated, do it on him, or at least yourself. I told you from the start it wasn't any good dating someone you couldn't be yourself with."

"You want to hear me say that you were right? Tell me, Russell, unless I want to join in with Kain and Frank or Roy and Ed, how exactly am I going to find someone who knows all about me and is interested?"

"Don't be such an idiot," Russell said, knocking Wrath alongside his head. With that, Wrath once again grabbed Russell's shirt collar and slammed him against the wall.

"Don't call me an idiot!" The almost sickening thump as the blond's body hit the plaster made Wrath's body tense just a bit. He was inches from Russell's face, looking into those gray-green eyes.

"Then stop acting like one," Russell practically spat at him. Wrath was shocked at the amount of fight the older man had in him. If Wrath had done this to either of his previous lovers, he'd have seriously injured him. Russell not only seemed perfectly fine, but also prepared to take Wrath on.

At that thought, Russell kicked Wrath away with enough force to send him falling to the ground, the older man trying to pin him there. It wasn't much of a struggle for Wrath, but just at the moment the former homunculus seemed certain to turn the tables, he found a hot mouth pressed against his own, and hands that had been holding his wrists now strongly holding the wet braids of his hair.

His own hands nearly covered the entirety of Russell's head as he mashed the older man's face and body to his own. This was no loving embrace, there were no tongues seeking entrance. It was a battle for dominance, as tongues intertwined and fought and massaged against one another. The smaller man's hips grinding against Wrath's nearly unclad ones, two quickly swelling erections rubbing against one another, pushing, poking, twitching beneath the fabric that separated them.

Wrath flipped Russell onto his back, switching positions, losing the towel as he did, the kiss never really breaking, the battle not yet ended as he ripped Russell's shirt completely open and began working at the man's pants. Why hadn't he known this earlier? Why had he wasted time with the little mouse he'd been dating?

Wrath's entire body felt warmer than it had even in the shower, sweat beading up all over his body. He pressed his weight down on the man below him, finding Russell finally ending the kiss, only to move to Wrath's neck and bite him, drawing the skin into his mouth as he did. He was marking Wrath's nearly flawless pale skin, and Wrath would be damned if he was going to let that go unpunished.

He pushed Russell's mouth away and attached his own to the older man's jugular, feeling the pulse racing beneath his lips and finally tasting the man he'd thought would forever remain part of his fantasies. When the phone rang, interrupting what was certain not to stop anywhere short of sex, both men had managed to bruise one another in more than one way, and neither looked to have the immediate energy to get up and answer it.

"Hello?" Wrath's voice said on the other end of the line. He sounded just a bit winded.

"Wrath?" Fletcher asked. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Definitely winded.

"Is Russell there?"

"Um… yeah…"

Some brother Russell was, making out, or something like that, with Wrath while he had no idea if Fletcher was safe.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Wrath asked.

"No, tell him he's a lousy brother doing whatever he's doing with you while I could very well be injured. You're the one I want to talk to. Nicholas was injured. We're going to be transporting him to the hospital."

"What happened to him?" There was genuine concern in Wrath's voice, as naturally there would be. He'd always been close to Nicholas, probably more so than even Aideen.

"He's lost his arm from chimera venom."

"What?" Through the phone, Fletcher could swear he heard the sound of Wrath's heart hitting his stomach. It certainly had been how he'd felt.

"I thought you might want to meet us at the hospital. They're also taking Colonel Fuery."

"What happened to him?"

"He got scratched pretty bad by one of the things he was fighting. He'll be okay."

"We'll be right there."

Fletcher hung up the phone, leaning against the glass wall of the phone booth and crying for the first time since he'd carried Nicholas to the clinic. He'd stayed strong for his student and his friends, but no one should have to go through what Nicholas was going to do. Watching the young girl sob into his arms, wracked with guilt, he had wanted to cry himself.

"All right," Frank said, helping Kain slide off the stretcher and onto the seat in the fuhrer's car. "You okay?"

"I think so," Kain answered, starting to look enough like himself that Frank felt a bit relieved. He watched as Aideen numbly helped Fletcher return the stretcher to the clinic before climbing into the seat across from Kain and Frank. As she sat in the seat, she curled into the corner, away from everyone, pulling her legs up to her chest, looking at nothing in particular, staring off into the distance, through the metal of the car, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing her thumb over the tiny silver necklace she wore at all times.

There were a few cleared throats, some coughs, but for the largest part, the ride was filled only with painful silence as Breda drove, not seeming any more capable of saying anything than the rest of them.

The drive was short, for which Frank was grateful.

He saw Wrath waiting at the front door along with Russell, both of them looking like they'd been in a fight, not with one of the creatures, but Frank wasn't going to comment. It had been a shitty day to say the least, and he wasn't feeling up to ask awkward questions.

Together with the other men, he moved Kain into the hospital, military personnel stopping both Tringham brothers, apparently needing their help with some additional clean-up. Wrath would probably be called on soon, as a state alchemist, but at the moment, he needed to see Nicholas or at the very least try to visit him. Together with Wrath's help, Frank and medical personnel got Kain into a bed with a private room.

"I'm going to stay down here just a bit longer," Frank told Wrath. "Roy sent word with one of the nurses that they were waiting on you. Go ahead and take Aideen up with you."

Frank scanned the room for a sign of the shorter dark head, but found none. Wrath looked out around the hall, still finding nothing.

"Frank," Kain said, placing a hand on Frank's arm, "you need to go find her."

"Wrath," Frank said, "go up to Nicholas. They'll wonder why you're not there. Don't let Roy and Ed worry about Aideen unless its necessary. I'll try to find her."

Frank rubbed Kain's left foot as he walked out of the room, walking down the hall, looking for any sign of the fire-eyed girl. He didn't dare ask anyone for help, afraid that word would reach the already overtaxed parents upstairs.

As he passed by the bathroom, he heard noises somewhere between cries of frustration and sorrow. He stood in front of the door, debating on whether or not to go in, afraid that knocking would make the young teen aware he was there and possibly push her to run, but he certainly didn't like the idea of barging in either. Instead, he opened the door just a crack, just enough that he could manage to charge in if she did try to run, but close enough that he wouldn't get screamed at.

"Aideen?" there was no answer to the question, only sobs. "Aideen, can I come in?"

"Uh-huh," was all the answer he got. He saw her, arms curled over her head, elbows resting on the porcelain sink, her body shaking, either from crying or mere frustration, he wasn't sure. Then he saw a pair of scissors, and the ponytail of her hair laying next to her.

"Aideen, why did you do this?" Frank walked completely into the bathroom, standing in front of the teenager, pulling her into his embrace. "Aideen, aside from the obvious, are you okay?"

There was a noise of anger, the same feeling they'd all had, unable to do anything to help her brother. "Do you know why I went to the salon in the first place?" she asked. Frank said nothing, only rubbed circles on her back. "I had split ends. I was being vain because it wouldn't lay perfectly. It's my fault that Nicholas went off to find me. I was safe and didn't find a way to let him know. I…" There was another noise of her aggravation. "He followed after me when those things were chasing me. They didn't want him in the first place, they wanted me, and it's my fault that he got hurt."

Frank glaced over at the tied off hair that had once been attached to the girl's head, then rubbed a hand over the somewhat sharp tips of the short hair.

"Wondering what might have happened and blaming yourself won't get you anywhere. Your brother wanted to make sure you were safe. You'd have done the same for him."

"The hair," she said. Frank waited for the shock, the realization that half her hair was now gone. "They had someone downstairs cutting to make wigs for patients. See if they can use it."

Frank hadn't imagined that kind of calm from the girl, but there were a lot of things he'd had to teach himself with Aideen, the biggest being to expect what isn't expected.

Roy cursed each and every phone call that took him away from his son. There wasn't probably a member of parliament he hadn't growled at, a soldier he hadn't verbally reamed. Even Havoc and Breda had met his full fury today, and as a parent, Havoc could understand, and as a friend Breda forgave him. He couldn't help it. He had forgone being brave and strong. He was flat-out pissed off.

Though he hated being fuhrer, Roy was grateful that he had the distraction it provided. Ed was wallowing in his grief, but Roy was angry, and without the diversion of trying to prove he was still leading this country, he may very well have taken everything out on his own family. He was mad with himself for not going out into the field and protecting his children, and that took forefront, but after his self-loathing, Roy was fuming at Ed and Al, two adults who had been out in that part of Central, but had failed the children.

Then there was Aideen, and the almost seething guilt associated with her at the moment. By all rights, she should have stayed in the salon, should have remained there after she'd fortified it. Then, there was the fact that she ran off, leaving no sign of where she was going. Finally, the fact that she had saved all of Central from the monsters who had been attacking it and hadn't done it sooner.

That anger at his own child made Roy sick; he shouldn't feel that way, and he knew it. It left a feeling of something eating away at his stomach.

Once again he walked into Nicholas's hospital room, finding Ed exactly where and how he'd left him, right hand holding Nicholas's, his left rubbing over the sleeping teen's arm and shoulder. Roy took a seat beside him, looking as the set of tired eyes of lusterless gold gazing at him. He wrapped an arm around Ed, feeling the blond hair against his cheek as their heads met.

"No patch?" Ed asked.

"I'm done with it." If his husband and soon his son could walk around without something covering their injuries, he wouldn't cover his own.

"Is he… okay?" a tiny voice said from the door.

Both parents turned, looking back at their daughter. She'd been kept out of the room until now, staying away even when Wrath had visited.

"Aideen, what have you done to your hair?" Ed said.

"Donated it. I don't need to have it that long." She walked into the room, standing at the foot of Nicholas's bed. "How is he?"

"Tired." Roy looked to see Nicholas answering. He squinted a bit looking at Aideen. "Had to make this about yourself, didn't you? You had to chop off your hair because they did my arm."

"Nicholas," Aideen said, sounding shocked.

"It's called dark humor. Get used to it." Aideen moved to his left side, looking at the remaining part of the arm.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not right now. Probably will after the drugs wear off."

Roy watched on in amazement as the twins carried on a conversation, sounding far more casual than he felt, than he knew either one felt. It wasn't denial; it was comfort.

"So," Nicholas said, pulling his hand from Ed to shift on the bed, leaving room for Aideen, "what the heck did you do back there? That was awesome."

"The first thing that came to mind. Changed the air into something denser, used a mild explosion to force the chimeras back."

"Wrath said he heard you yelling to stay away from me all the way in the center of town."

"Really?" she asked, crawling into the hospital bed beside him, an act so familiar, one they'd done anytime something was wrong since they were toddlers.

"Yeah."

"You know, if you do get automail, you could try to incorporate it into your body with the stuff Wrath has been teaching you. It could really be a part of you."

"What do you mean if I get automail. We've got Aunt Winry, and I'm going to guilt her into giving me better automail than even Dad's."

As they sat in the hospital chairs, Roy pulled Ed closer to his side, listening to the twins talk, a sign that maybe things would be okay.


	39. Chapter 39

**_Bar-Ohki,_ **_yeah, definitely going to be some focus on Nicholas here and make things more "interesting." **iluvEdo**, I hated doing that to Nicholas, but it just seemed to work well, and give him a little time to "shine" more or less.** FMA lover912**, This chapter lets us focus on Nicholas a little more. It also gives him one more thing in common with his dad._

_SLIGHTLY GRAPHIC LEMON _

**Chapter 39 **

Nicholas looked at his Aunt Winry, large eyes looking a bit like a puppy's. "Please."

"No. I'll give you the very best I can, but not built in weapons. You're an alchemist. That's enough of one if you need it. Look at your dad. He doesn't have any."

"But Aunt Winry, aren't you going to make mine better than his?" He was trying, blaming his actions on wanting to have a cool accessory to his new automail, but honestly knowing he was behaving this way because he was afraid.

"And it will be better than his. But no hidden knives." He looked up at her again. "Use those puppy-dog eyes on me again, and I swear I'll crack you over the head with a wrench."

"You're no fun." Nicholas jutted out his bottom lip just a bit, watching his aunt smile. If only she knew this was just an act, that Nicholas wanted the weapon because he was afraid, that the attack had left him jumpy. And though he hid it well from most of his family, Aideen was aware, just like she always was.

Winry began looking at the stump on Nicholas's left—he didn't try to pretend it was anything else. "Well, let's see what we have here." She began unwrapping the bandages, then pulling off the gauze. He was grateful to have someone with her kind of professionalism, knowing she had seen far worse and wouldn't wince or flinch seeing the healing arm. She pulled off the final piece of gauze from the bottom. "Well, this is much better than I expected. Your second favorite aunt did a very good job."

Nicholas smiled up at her. "Don't let Auntie hear you say that."

"It'll be our little secret." She grinned as she pulled a tray of automail nodes over to them, running her hand over the slowly healing tissue at the bottom of the thing that had been his arm. "Are you absolutely certain you want to try this?"

He nodded, taking the first node, wrapping his fingers around it, focusing on the components of the node, the gold and copper wiring, the steel casing. He then drew a series of tiny alchemic symbols on it, activating them all as he placed it against the lost arm, his aunt guiding his hand as he did. He closed his eyes, focusing only on attaching the node to his body, incorporating it into his arm.

He hissed in pain, knowing that this was nothing compared to what his father had experienced going about this in the traditional route, but as he was purposely melding his nerves to the piece of steel and wire, it burned like he couldn't believe.

"Nicholas are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered, through gritted teeth. "How many more?"

"Twenty three."

"Well, shit," he said, then covering his mouth with his right hand. "Don't tell my fathers I said that."

Winry rubbed his head. "Of course not. Besides, you inherited your dad's mouth, so if he says a word about it, I'll take care of him."

Through the pain in his arm, he smiled.

"I have bad news, though," she said. "I have to test the node now that it's in place. And there's no way it isn't going to hurt."

Nicholas winced. "Go ahead."

"So much like him," his aunt muttered as she lifted an instrument that looked like a dental pick and raised it toward the node. Nicholas screamed out in pain, and almost instantly, his fathers rushed through the doors.

"What's wrong?" his papa asked, eyes looking at Winry anxiously—it was really nice to see them both all the time now.

"Testing the nodes," Winry said. Nicholas, through teary eyes, saw his dad nodding sympathetically and watched as he walked over to cradle Nicholas's head. "But his alchemy worked, so the test is probably the worst pain he'll feel until we actually install the arm."

"Yeah, all twenty-three times of it," Nicholas said, less than enthusiastically.

"Twenty-three? Why so many?"

"To make it feel as close to the genuine article. Since this is still new," She patted Nicholas's now-tender left arm. "and we have the technology, we can add more. He'll have more feeling in it than even you do now."

"He won't… have the reaction that I did, will he?"

When he saw the smile on Winry's face, Nicholas somehow felt as though he was being left out of something. "No, he won't. It won't be a totally new sensation for him like it was for you."

There was a definite sigh of relief from both parents, and Nicholas was certain he was being left in the dark. But knowing his fathers, it probably involved something that would be embarrassing to hear.

"Okay," his aunt said. "I need both of you out of here. I won't have two nervous fathers looking over my shoulder. Out."

Russell sat on Wrath's desk, back to the braided-haired man, nursing a bruise on his arm he'd gotten for disturbing the former homunculus earlier. It wasn't that he was being abused; Wrath was also sporting one on his side. The older alchemist wanted to get the muscular man in his bed, and if it didn't happen soon, the tension between them was surely going to cause one or the other of them to murder. And unfortunately, all Russell could think to do was goad Wrath, which he knew was not exactly a wise thing.

"I think I've figured it out," Russell said.

"What?" Wrath said, looking up from his drawings of various transmutation circles, each of which would allow a person to incorporate a different kind of material into the body. He'd dedicated himself to it to figure out every symbol for each component of automail for the sake of his student, but he'd done that, and Russell was tired of waiting.

"Why you keep staying at this desk all this time." Wrath only looked up, waiting for Russell to continue. "You've never had sex."

"I'm not a virgin," Wrath said, the tone in his voice cold.

Russell swung his body around so that his legs were now on either side of Wrath's chair. Russell was grateful for the slickness of the desk that had allowed the move, because it certainly was proving effective in distracting Wrath.

"I didn't say you were."

"You said I'd never had sex." Wrath leaned back in his chair, arms across his chest, legs not trying to hide the bulge that had started in his pants. Then again, Russell considered, if he was a good ten or eleven inches limp, he probably wouldn't be ashamed either.

"I'm not saying you haven't 'made love' or 'consummated a relationship,'" Russell said, inching forward on the desk. "I'm saying you haven't had sex." He slid down onto the taller man's lap, firmly attaching himself to Wrath's neck, drawing that alabaster skin into his mouth and enjoying the sweet, salty taste that was his would-be lover. "Raw, animalistic, sex. I'm not talking about sweet nothings, declarations of love."

"But…" Russell felt Wrath gulp beneath his lips. "Animal?"

"Yes, Wrath." Damn, that had been the wrong word to say to the younger man and would need a quick recovery. "Animalistic, something that every human has deep inside. Some of us just show it a little more closely to the surface." When Wrath seemed to respond for a moment, it made Russell smile against the flesh he was attacking.

Then Wrath started thinking again, almost to the point where Russell could hear it, and he hated when Wrath thought in moments like this. "You said it isn't making love. What about love?"

"I'm not exactly there yet." And with those five words, Russell found himself on the floor.

"And you want to have sex?"

Russell reached up, grabbing Wrath's shirt and kicking the rolling chair out from beneath him to pull the dark-haired man to the floor. "I have feelings for you," He crawled on top of the former sin. "and I think you can tell that there's definite lust here." He ground his hips over Wrath's thigh.

"What are you, an oversexed teenager?"

"Hardly. I want you, nothing more, nothing less. And you don't seem to be complaining." He unbuttoned Wrath's pants, cursing the man for wearing a button fly. With them finally opened, he thrust his hand beneath those pants and wrapped his fingers around the surprising length. "Now, do you _really_ want to wait until we're both sure we love one another, or do you want to actually do what our bodies are telling us?"

Wrath's hips bucked into Russell's hand. "I want… oh, damn."

Russell unzipped his own fly, pulling his own member out, and held it against Wrath's, trying to ignore the sheer difference in size and only revel in the sensation as they ground against one another. He moved to his pocket to grab the tube of lube he'd been carrying since their encounter almost two weeks ago. He looked down at Wrath, smiling as he saw the violet eyes almost invisible as they rolled to the back of his head. Considering that his go ahead, Russell ran a line of the lube down Wrath's length and slowly spread it over them both.

"Have you ever done this?" Russell asked as he began moving his hands and hips in time. Wrath's hands attempted to fist the floorboards beneath them as he shook his head, braids coming loose from the leather band around them. "You've definitely missed out." Russell stretched his body to lay against Wrath's and kiss the taller man's neck as he continued to grind within his own hand, moaning as he felt Wrath's member poke against his hips.

It wouldn't take long; he could feel how hard Wrath already was, and was more than aware of how close he was himself. He only hoped Wrath had his stamina, because he certainly didn't consider himself close to being done yet, even as he cried out and heard Wrath following shortly afterward.

Ed felt Roy's hand around his automail one, fingers laced together. Roy lifted the automail to his lips and kissed the back of the hand, and Ed tried desperately not to cry. He was physically and emotionally exhausted, and there was something about having Roy there, so affectionate with his metal limbs made him want to crack at the moment. He'd gotten lucky, finding someone accepting of his abnormalities, but would Nicholas be so lucky? Would that arm become a hindrance, force him away from others as Ed had always felt his had?

Would there be someone else in the world who wasn't a mechanic who would find automail as something other than a handicap?

Lost in thought, he didn't notice as Roy shifted, looking at him, cupping his face in his hands. "Ed?"

"Hmm?"

"Look at me."

Gold eyes glanced up to meet onyx, and he wondered if his husband could tell just how tired he was.

"Nicholas will be fine. He's resilient." Ed found himself being pulled into Roy's arms. "Like someone else I know. Besides, Nicholas is lucky to have you and I since we both have our own bits of automail."

"It makes it a little easier," Ed said, against Roy's tee shirt. "Since we're examples for him."

"You think that's it?" Roy pulled back, looking Ed in the eyes. "We aren't just examples for him. The whole attitude of automail has changed." Roy held either side of Ed's face, making Ed feel less like a thirty-year-old man and more like a kid again. "Mostly because of you. You've shown how strong it makes you, that it isn't a weakness. If it was, you would have been more tempted by Wrath's offer to give your arm and leg back."

Roy quickly kissed him, then held him again.

There was the noise of a muffled yell again from the room where Winry was once again testing Nicholas's automail nodes. She had suggested the parents soundproof the room, but Ed wanted to know immediately if something went wrong. Now, as he heard his son, probably biting down on something, crying out in pain, his grip on Roy's back tightened, and tears at his eyes began to sting. He had been strong through so much, but to have the flashbacks of his own experience knowing exactly what his son was going through seemed certain to make it impossible to just bounce back.

Ed had been counting the screams and was on twenty-two now. Two more. Two more and it would be over until the arm was attached.

"Brother, we're back," Al said as he walked through the main door.

There was another scream, and once again, Ed felt certain he was going to break Roy's ribs. They had gotten past Roy's anger, thankfully, and since then, Roy had done nothing but try to ease Ed's grief over the entire situation. Roy had been surprised to find out Ed had been aware all along of his rage over what had happened A little sandy-haired girl with hazel eyes came running into the room. "Uncle Ed, Uncle Roy, is Nicholas done yet?"

The final scream came, and Ed tried to rub his eyes with the heels of his hand as he pulled away from his husband's arms. He was about to say something about apologizing for what a baby he was being when he looked over and saw that there were tears pooled at the bottom of both eyes. For just a moment, Ed smiled inwardly that he was looking into both eyes outside of the privacy of their home and that he was no more weak than Roy.

"He's just finishing now, Sasha" Roy said, blinking a bit too much to rid his eyes of the tears.

Aideen walked into the waiting area of the shop, hesitantly. She was wearing jeans and a black tee-shirt, short hair swinging around her face. Ed still didn't quite understand why she'd done that to herself, knowing it stemmed mostly from being at the salon when the attack had begun. Ed only wished that had been the only thing that was different after that day, but there was no doubting that his little girl was changed by the whole experience.

She took her seat at Ed's side, hands folded in her lap, looking at the door anxiously. When Winry finally opened it and helped a weak-looking Nicholas, with the arm with the newly attached nodes re-bandaged, leave the room, all three members of the family stood up and went to him, offering a hand, arm, whatever he needed.

Once again, little Sasha, the bravest of Al's three children, spoke up. "How do you feel?"

Nicholas smiled at the nine-year-old. "Like a lab rat who didn't know better than to keep hitting the button that shocked him." He looked up at Winry. "My automail had better be better than Dad's after all that."

She smiled and kissed his head. "It will. I promise."

"You… you're ready to go again?" Wrath asked. "So fast?"

Russell only grinned as Wrath crawled on his back toward the bed. Russell really loved that the former homunculus lived in a studio apartment and there were no doors or rooms to seperate the bed from them. He slowly began unfastening his shirt, crawling between Wrath's splayed legs, eying the slowly hardening member. "Are you telling me you don't want this?" He ground their hips together as he leaned forward, somehow capturing Wrath's mouth, enjoying the feel of those thin lips as they gasped in shock.

"Who said you get to take control?" Wrath asked after Russell had thoroughly examined every inch of his mouth with his tongue.

"I did. Besides, you've never done it like this." He rested most of his weight on his head pressing into Wrath's shoulder as he pulled his pants down over his hips, feet kicking off his shoes. As he now stood before Wrath naked, he enjoyed the feeling of that amethyst gaze running over his body. He wasn't perfectly toned, and certainly wasn't the perfect and powerful physical specimen that Wrath was, but he knew there was nothing to complain about on his body.

"On the bed," Russell ordered, ripping the cotton shirt over Wrath's head as he did.

Without second thought, the larger man obeyed, pushing off his pants, giving Russell yet another view of that wonderful body, the black curls above the monster the blond alchemist swore he would manage one day, the fine dusting of black hair over the sculpted chest and abdomen, the hairless arms and legs that showed every subtle twitch of muscle beneath the mismatched skin.

"Turn over."

"You think I'm going to be bottom?" Russell saw there wasn't much fight in the younger man's body and promptly flipped him himself, rubbing just a bit of the lube on his fingers, smearing it around before tracing it between Wrath's cheeks.

"Why not? You go by Ulysses 'Wrath' Curtis. UWC, sounds an awful lot like uke when you put them together."

He earned himself a glare from the man beneath him. "I don't think it's pronounced that way, moron."

Russell only smirked. "Well then, you're going to be bottom because I feel like it." He bit on Wrath's shoulder. "But you're also going to be bottom because we both want this now and I don't have time to stretch myself for your delicious-looking monster. I'd probably have to use more than just fingers for that." Wrath again looked over his shoulder, this time questioningly as Russell slowly pressed a finger into him. The look of surprise and shudder of his body seemed to say that Wrath hadn't bottomed for quite a while. "I mean toys, Wrath."

"Toys?" Wrath practically squeaked.

Russell smiled thinking of how naïve the younger man was in the more kinky aspects of sex. "Toys," he repeated as he moved one hand to wrap around Wrath's member. "To stretch myself for you, I'd probably need a plug in for a good amount of time. Do you know what that is?" More braids loosened themselves as Wrath shook his head. "That's a toy that you put here." For emphasis, Russell moved his finger inside of Wrath. "Some people leave it in all day, and it teases the prostate and keeps a body ready to be entered by keeping it stretched." Russell moved a second finger inside Wrath slowly, hearing a grunt from below. "Then there are rings that you put right here." He squeezed Wrath's member at the base. "Or here." He moved around Wrath's balls. "It keeps you from coming. And then there are dildos, they are shaped like a penis, and they can go any number of places to simulate the real thing."

Wrath was moaning as Russell moved his fingers to touch over the spongy gland inside of the taller man, making his body buck against his fingers.

"That turns you on, doesn't it? The idea of me having to use some of those things just to get myself ready for this." He stroked down the long, hardening flesh. "I don't mind pain, but I like to be able to stand upright the day after sex."

It suddenly crossed Russell's mind that if Wrath had no idea about toys, then Edward must have taken him with no more preparation than a few fingers. He knew the other blond was an inch or two taller than his counterpart, but his body was considerably smaller, more fragile. The idea that he had managed to do it was almost enough to make Russell forego his idea of topping Wrath just to prove he was the better man. Then Wrath bucked again, begging Russell.

"Please," Wrath said, pushing back.

"It has been a long time for you, hasn't it?"

"Years."

"Since you were bottom?"

"Since anything."

"That's about to change," Russell said, pulling his fingers from the other man, moving his mouth down between the cheeks, deciding to torment him just a bit more before actually moving forward. He stuck his tongue out into the prepared entrance, hearing Wrath gasp. Oh, he wasn't a virgin, but he'd never had an experienced seme before.

That was more than enough torment for both of them. Wrath was ready and waiting and Russell wanted to bury himself to the hilt in his younger lover. Russell lowered the former homunculus's body down and lined himself up before pressing the head of his member into Wrath.

"You are so tight, so unbelievable." Russell figured out earlier that words alone seemed to be enough to excite the muscular man, and he would use that to his advantage. "You know it should be illegal to feel this good."

He pressed forward, slow enough not to cause serious injury, but still hurting the man below him.

"Russell," Wrath said, his voice so full of wanton desire that Russell could have died at that moment if he could only hear his name said like that from those lips.

The older man withdrew until all but his tip before pressing inside once again, repeating the process until he'd gotten the angle exactly right and was putting pressure against Wrath's prostate, watching as the tall, fair-skinned back arched beneath him. Russell was not able to kiss Wrath on the mouth like this, so he satisfied himself for moving his mouth over every inch of skin, his left hand helping to support his weight, his right hand slickly moving in time with each of his thrusts.

"Oh, God, Russell. Harder!"

The blond began slamming into him faster and harder, Wrath meeting each thrust with force enough, Russell began to question that he might find bruises on his hips in the shape of Wrath's ass.

"Oh, shit!" Russell yelled, almost at a squeak as Wrath moved back once again, and his balls were smashed between their bodies.

"Oh, Russ—Russell!" He felt Wrath's balls draw up, felt the muscles throughout the larger man's body tensing up, felt the walls surrounding his own member tightening. "I'm going to—"

"Then do it. Come for me."

As Russell pounded harder still into him, Wrath lowered his head onto the bed, fists tearing at the sheets as his orgasm finally ripped through his body. He screamed something, though it was little more than a howl, and as the tight heat around him grew even more vice-like Russell found he was coming shortly after, screaming out the sin's name before collapsing on top of him, still firmly buried inside.

Frank had gotten permission to bring his lover home to a small cottage he'd purchased as a surprise for the younger man, and before their first night there, Frank had lost complete control of his own home. At the moment, three sisters were there, dutifully doting over their baby brother. One was in Frank's kitchen cooking dinner, another was dealing with the paperwork from the hospital, and finally, Anna was in their bedroom, doing Kain's physical therapy.

He loved the Fuery family, but damn it, he had this under control. Anna stepped out of the bedroom, but as Frank tried to go in with Kain, she stopped him.

"He's a bit tired after his physical therapy," she said, her hand on Frank's shoulder.

"I'm not going to jump him the minute I go in there," Frank said, hands on his hips. "I just want to see him. You are all wonderful, but for you three mother hens, I haven't gotten to see my boyfriend hardly at all this week."

"Actually, we want to talk to you," Diana, the oldest of the siblings said, pulling him into the kitchen where Tabitha was standing at the stove, cooking. Diana pushed him down on one of the kitchen chairs.

"I'll have you know that, as a spy, I've been interrogated before." And that was exactly what this seemed to be.

"We want to know how long you intend to keep this up," Anna said.

"What?"

"Frank, you are the first of our brother's boyfriends we've all approved of, but he obviously wants to be with you. Do you realize that if you two were married, the military would be obligated to seek other options before separating you?" Diana said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"We know you aren't taking advantage of Kain," Tabitha said, wooden spoon in her hand.

"I should say not," Frank said.

"We just wondered if the two of you are going to take a step further. We nearly lost our little brother," Anna said, tears in her eyes. "He's very happy with you, and we want him to stay that way."

Frank reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a tiny red box. "Does this make you feel better?" All three sisters looked at the velvet box, Tabitha finally opening it. "I really wanted him to be the first one to know, but I also want to go in and see him, so if this will get you all off my back," He smiled at them, trying to lighten the dark mood that could have been induced by those words. "I suppose showing you isn't such a bad idea."

"They're beautiful," Anna said. "How long have you had them?"

"Six months. I carry them with me every moment Kain's home or I'm with him. I didn't want to be the reason he was pulled from the East as long as he had a title and people under his command. I wasn't spoiling his career." Then, for good measure, he threw in a bit of a guilt trip. "Since Roy doesn't have any intention of making him return, I was going to ask him if we got a moment alone."

The three sisters looked at the floor sheepishly, Diana grabbing the box and putting it into Frank's hand, then pulling him to his feet. "Well, don't let us stop you."

Frank nodded as he was practically shoved to his bedroom, finding Kain, looking somewhat tired, but happy to see him.

"I'm so glad to see you." Kain was smiling. "I didn't think my sisters would let you."

"Yeah, well, I set them straight. Besides, if they keep hovering over you, I'll never get you up and walking again." Frank sat beside Kain, running his hand down the younger man's side. "Among other things."

"I'm feeling up to some activities, you know."

"Yes, but your sisters are in the next room." Frank closed his eyes, thumb rubbing over the red velvet. "Kain, I was so afraid I'd lose you, and all this time apart hasn't been easy. You're going to be home for a while, and I'd like to make sure that's permanent, or at least, if we're shipped out, we do it together."

"The only way that would happen is with special treatment from the fuhrer. They only let things like that happen if the couple is married or they have a child. We haven't found the right child yet, so we will just have to deal with the problem."

"I think you just mentioned our other solution," Frank said, placing the red box on Kain's chest.

"You mean, you want to…" Kain opened the box and smiled when he saw the two rings. "You and I?"

"We've been together for almost four years, Kain. That should be more than enough to say that I do. I love you Kain. I don't need marriage to prove it, but if it keeps us together, I'll be happy."

"I love you, too," Kain said, pulling out the smaller ring from the box, and sliding it onto Frank's finger.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Frank asked, pulling out the remaining ring to put on Kain's finger.

"Yes."

With that, the engaged couple was now attacked by three sisters, all squealing.

Dante heard a whispered hello on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Tucker, I am sorely disappointed in the way things turned out. Not all of the chimeras obeyed my voice."

"Of course not," Tucker said. "It is difficult enough to teach them to obey commands when the person they are to obey is present. You weren't."

"Please excuse me that I am not capable to tear myself away at any given moment, but it isn't exactly simple."

"And what about the blast that destroyed three of them?"

"That is my concern. Not yours."

"I just don't want to be blamed for what happened there. You promised to tell me how to have my daughter back, and I don't want anything to change that."

Roy watched as Nicholas sat and flexed his fingers as the automail was now fully activated.

"How's it feel?" Ed asked.

"Different and heavy."

"That's because you have to rely on this part of your arm," Winry said, rubbing over the space between Nicholas's shoulder and the metal elbow. "You'll need to build up the strength there."

"Now that I have my arm," he asked, "can I show the reporters exactly what I think of them for printing pictures of me with just the stump?"

"You are not giving reporters the finger, young man," Roy said.

"Please?"

"No."

Nicholas looked over at Ed, who only shrugged, deferring this to Roy. In turn, the older parent elbowed the younger. "No, Nicholas, he's right."

Nicholas sighed, and pouted the entire ride to Havoc's fortieth birthday party. Though it was Havoc's day and Ed and some of the men had managed a few embarrassing moments, Nicholas and his new arm managed to steal most of the attention, a good portion of it coming from Elysia Hughes.

Roy had been watching Nicholas talking with Elysia and her boyfriend when Wrath caught up to him.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course." They stepped out in the next room, Roy wondering what exactly the former sin could want. Usually when he wanted a man-to-man talk, he went to Ed or Frank, even the Tringhams.

"You know that Russell and I have been together for the last few weeks."

"Yes. It was about time."

"Well, right now, it's mostly talking and, well," Wrath's voice dipped down just a bit. "sex."

Roy chuckled, but not hard enough to make Wrath uncomfortable. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"But what if I want something else? Is that possible with the way we started?"

"It was for Riza and I."

"Really?" Wrath asked, looking down at Roy, eyes wide. "Was it the twins that changed things?"

"Things had changed before she informed me I was going to be a father." Roy smiled at that memory, Riza coming into his library office, looking furious at him, yelling at him about ruining her career, and not making any sense until she told him she was pregnant. Roy had never considered being a father before that moment, but all he could do was wrap his arms around her and kiss her. She had melted a bit at that, and seemed to forget her anger as Roy began making plans, trying to feel her stomach, repeating how much he loved her and wanted this family with her.

"So, Russell and I could end up more than this?"

"If that's what you want."

"I don't know, but I'm enjoying what we've got right now."

"You may just need to trust to let this go where it will."

Roy patted Wrath on his shoulder, going back to the main room.

"Roy," Wrath said, making Roy turn toward him. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"And, Roy," Wrath said, looking as though he felt very awkward, "I'm sorry that I couldn't tell that Archer wasn't dead after I'd fought him. Maybe if I had..."

"What's done is done. You hardly knew what sleep was and how it was differenet from death. I don't blame you for my eye. That goes solely to the bastard Frank Archer I knew."

Wrath nodded, an understanding and sympathetic smile on his face. Roy patted the larger man's arm and walked back inside. When he re-entered, Roy caught Nicholas talking to the eighteen-year-old daughter of Roy's old friend.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little, but it will fade. I can't wait to start really using it." Nicholas flexed the limb in the sling around his neck.

"It's kind of a battle scar to be proud of, you know that?"

"That's what I think. I mean, I got this fighting off a chimera. That gives me a story to break the ice for the rest of my life."

Elysia smiled at him. "Can I get you anything?"

"A drink of punch?" He asked with a pleasant smile, then noticeably watched her leave as she walked away.

"Nicholas," Roy said, disapprovingly.

"Yeah?"

"Were you just watching Elysia Hughes?"

"Well, she's hot."

"Nicholas!"

"She is."

"You shouldn't ogle women like objects." Roy looked down at his son. "Imagine if it was your sister."

"Oh, gross! Are you trying to turn me completely gay?"

"I just mean imagine if it was someone else doing it to your sister."

"Well, say what you mean from now on. Geez, Papa." Nicholas shuddered.

"Whatever gets you to stop," Roy said. "Remember people aren't objects."

"And your father would know everything about that," a woman's voice said. Roy turned to find Gracia wrapping her arm around his. "I believe that there was a time he was going to make every woman in the country wear mini-skirts."

"That would have been a good law," Nicholas said.

"Like father, like son," Gracia said.

"So why'd you change your mind?"

"He became a father to a little girl."

"Aideen ruins everything," Nicholas said with a smile on his face.

"Maybe so, but I would prefer if you didn't stare at my daughter like that," Gracia said.

"Yes, Mrs. Havoc."


	40. Chapter 40

_**Bar-Ohki**, I was rather proud of that ending. Glad you liked. **FMA lover912**, yeah, Nicholas is definitely maturing, somewhat. And what can I say, he's a combo of both his dads. **Sadler**, I think if I wrote Frank and Kain on a page a few dozen times, you'd still like it. (just kidding). You really do love those two, don't you?_

**Chapter 40 **

"Oh no!" Nicholas yelled out, his right hand holding off his left. "I've lost control of my arm. It's turning against me!" His left arm moved to his neck, the girl at his side working to pry his hand from his own neck. Then with roaring laughter, he released his neck, feeling the girl start smacking his shoulder.

"Nicholas Mustang, that is a terrible joke!"

"Oh, relax," Nicholas's friend Victor said. "He does this to all of us."

"And you all fall for it." Nicholas ran his hand through his hair. "I'd really think more people would know how automail works, but I'm disappointed every time."

"So, did it really hurt?" the girl asked, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to see the juncture between the metal and flesh.

"What part of it? I got it after being poisoned by a chimera, having my arm cut off, having nodes being attached to it. All of that hurt." He said this lightly, to make sure she knew he was teasing. "But it doesn't hurt now, unless I forget to turn off the nodes that let me feel."

"So you can feel with this?" she grabbed his hand and started running her hand over the palm.

"Yep. Seems like cold metal, but I can feel every touch of your hand. Uncle Al and Aunt Winry have made a nice business with this technology, but it takes alchemy to activate and de-activate."

The younger teen looked over his hand. "This arm's strong, even your part of it, isn't it?"

Nicholas smirked, looking remarkably like his fuhrer father as he did. "Yeah. That piece of metal is automatic weightlifting. I had to do work just to balance out my right. It was boring as hell to exercise just the one arm. There's only so much you can do."

"Oh," Victor said, "there are some activities that develop the muscle in only one arm that I bet you didn't mind doing." He made a circle of his hand started doing a pumping motion with it. He earned some disapproving noises from the girls and a few slaps of his own.

"Thinking of you, Victor," Nicholas said, quickly grabbing the shorter teen and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Victor immediately pushed Nicholas away, wiping his face. "That's gross, man," he said.

Nicholas only smiled.

As they all teased Victor about his various insecurities, Nicholas saw Aideen walking through the crowd of teens leaving the school, alone as usual, black leather messenger bag hanging at her side, probably full of alchemy books. She had her nose buried in one at the moment, short hair tucked behind her ears, wearing a black turtleneck, fitted black pants and black boots. Save for her eyes and the red lipstick she always wore, Aideen hardly ever had any color on anymore. Even her eyes only got black eyeliner and mascara, making her ivory skin seem ghostly in the right light.

Nicholas, as though unconsciously making up for his sister, rarely wore a shirt in even a pastel, preferring bright, vibrant colors. Even those items he owned in more neutral colors had something distinctive about them. Proudly, he'd found he had enough facial hair for sideburns, while the rest of his unruly mane seemed in a constant state between being long enough and too short to tie it back.

"You know," one of the members of the outer circles of Nicholas's friends said, "I still can't believe the ice princess is your twin."

Nicholas's smile faded and he glared at the hanger-on of his group of friends.

"I'll see _most_ of you later," he said.

As he walked away, Nicholas heard Victor berating the younger teen. "You dumbass. No one is close enough of a friend to say anything about Aideen. If made to choose between us or his sister, she wins hands down."

Nicholas smiled at his loyal friend as he ran over to Aideen, throwing his right arm over her slim shoulders. "So what are we doing tonight, Little Sister?"

"Little?" she said, raising an eyebrow but continuing to read.

"Five minutes younger and three inches shorter. Makes you little to me."

"Hmm."

"Come on, not a comment about me crashing your date?" There was no response, even as they passed through a crowd of students Nicholas knew and greeted. Aideen continued to read, parting the group as they passed. Growing irritated with his sister, he began pulling at her left shirt sleeve.

"What are you doing?" she asked, glancing over from her book.

"Checking something." He held his automail arm next to her flesh one. "Yep. I'm the one who lost the arm."

"Your point being?"

Nicholas groaned as he spoke. "For you to lighten up."

Aideen looked up from the book to glare at Nicholas, then went back, reading and walking.

"Aideen, over here!"

Nicholas glanced over to see that Phillip Armstrong had managed to convince his father into letting him borrow the convertible.

"So that's where you disappeared to after school," Nicholas said, running a hand over the curves of the vehicle, trying not to drool. "Hot damn!" Automail hand on the edge, he used it to catapult himself as he jumped over the side and into the back seat. He watched as Philllip leaned down just a bit to kiss Aideen before opening the passenger side door for her. She smiled, patting his hand and waiting far more patiently than was normal for her as her boyfriend got in the car.

"By the way, Phillip, thanks for letting me crash your date so our parents can go out and enjoy their anniversary."

"No problem," Phillip said, starting up the car.

"Don't forget to keep your arm inside this time," Aideen said. "Last time, you had it hanging out and practically burned me with it."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get going. I want to enjoy this weather while it lasts."

Roy hung his coat up on the hall tree, walking out to the backyard and the lab. Thankfully, he knew Ed was here in Central. He'd honestly been afraid that his husband would still be away, since he'd left for Xenotime the day after the twins' birthday.

Roy opened the door to the lab, hearing the sound of heavy, deep breathing, and finding the blond laying on a cot against the farthest wall. Al had obviously been here, as Ed was curled up with a blanket over him, a plush kitten in his arms. Roy shook his head and knelt beside his sleeping husband, not without a bit of difficulty as his knees weren't cooperating with him today.

Looking at Ed, who was finally getting a bit of sleep, Roy felt wrong disturbing him, looking at how innocent he looked just lying there, despite the thin lines beginning at his eyes and his forehead. There was something left of the teenager he'd married fifteen years ago still present in that face, but Roy honestly preferred the man he had now. Though perhaps with a little more meat on his bones and without the sunburn that was just starting to fade.

But Ed was stubborn, and he rarely left his lab save for time with the twins or special occasions any more unless it was on a mission. If that hadn't been for his hard-headed nature, he probably wouldn't have dropped so much weight from forgetting to eat, and his skin wouldn't have been so unaccustomed to sunlight that it burned the moment he spent more than five minutes in it. He and Roy hardly shared a bed, Ed spending most nights out in the lab, grabbing snatches of sleep when he could, Roy waiting up for hours before resigning himself to the fact that once again, he would have their large bed to himself.

Well, tonight was about them, and he was going to remind the younger man of that fact.

"Ed," he said, kissing the somewhat chapped lips.

The gold eyes fluttered open just a bit. "What time is it?"

"Five-thirty. And our reservations are for seven."

Ed looked at the stuffed animal in his arms, glaring at the soft thing Al had probably made himself as though he might be able to incinerate it just with his eyes. "Al's been here."

"Well, the two of you _were_ working here earlier."

"Why does he, a _grown man_ think that I, a grown man , would want a plush toy?"

"You looked cute hugging it in your sleep."

Now the eyes that had been trying to make the cat spontaneously combust were turned on him. "I am not cute." Ed sat up looking at the toy.

"Trust me, you are."

"Bastard."

Trying to hide the struggle to stand, Roy made it to his feet and offered Ed a hand.

"Not as quick on your feet as you used to be." Ed grinned as he said those words, but all Roy could manage was to snake his hands around the shorter man's shoulders and hold him.

"I've missed you," Roy said.

"I've been home for a day and a half."

"Not for me."

Ed looked up at him, at first argumentative, then met his eyes, reflecting the hurt that Roy assumed must have been in them. For a moment, Ed worried his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth until it disappeared. "You're right." Ed pulled Roy down until their lips pressed together, mouths moving with practiced skill, if somewhat rusty, opened and both melted into the kiss.

Roy knew that the last two years hadn't been easy on either of them. They'd always fought and bickered, but the fights had been legitimate this time and far worse than any other point in their marriage he could remember. It had been two years of arguing, pouting, fighting. One fight got so bad Ed had even gone to stay with Al for a few nights, only to have his little brother and sister-in-law knock—literally—some sense into him. Roy swore that in these two years, he'd aged ten, his hair certainly showing it as the gray was winning against the black, the lines becoming just a bit more prominent and his body and mind having a constant feeling of exhaustion.

But that was nothing compared to the persistent ache in his chest. It was there constantly, this dull ache that only seemed to get worse when he had a major argument with Ed. It had grown so bad, Roy finally asked his older sister to check it out, fearing that a heart attack might be on the horizon. Aside from getting a lecture that he wasn't taking proper care of himself, Raine had informed him the ache had nothing to do with his physical health. Then, she had suggested that his problem might have been something more emotional.

As he held Ed and felt his husband responding without concern over his most recent experiment, Roy confirmed everything Raine had told him. It was tied to the man in his arms right now, and apparently so was the exhaustion. For the first time in weeks, Roy felt just a bit lighter.

Frank was laying on the bed, watching as Kain undressed, twin gold rings reflecting the bit of light in the room. He almost wanted to laugh at himself. Hardened military man and spy that he was, he'd all but melted completely because of a pudgy, near-sighted, doe-eyed colonel who was just over nine years younger than him and a good seven inches shorter.

His husband.

He almost laughed again, trying to wrap his mind around that concept. He had married someone he loved, not out of obligation—at least not entirely—and that person loved him in return.

He watched as Kain took off his glasses, then fumbled around finding the bed struggling not only with his own practical blindness without the horn-rimmed specs, but because the lighting in the room was dim. The bed shifted as Kain knelt on it, crawling his way to the center where Frank laid, nothing covering him except a single sheet draped precariously over his waist.

"I didn't get to tell you that one of my men is working on a lead on Shou Tucker."

"Really?" Frank asked, running a hand through Kain's thick, black hair. "I'm sure Ed will want to go after him personally."

"That's why I'm letting my man handle this. I'm afraid Ed might get too violent, and Tucker won't be of any use to us."

"I think a lot of us will get violent if we get our hands on him."

Kain kissed him, right hand on Frank's cheek the whole time. Ever since he'd told the younger man about how much he loved being touched, it seemed Kain didn't stop doing it. The smaller man nuzzled against Frank's neck, kissing and rubbing his nose against it like a puppy. Frank could see Kain's other hand grabbing hold of a pillow and instinctively, he raised his hips and spread his legs for Kain to get in place. This was routine, and while many would have considered such ritualized movements dull, it never was for Frank. Enough of his life was uncertain, whether he or Kain could die on some senseless mission, whether war would break out, whether he would have to leave all he had here to return to his world. He didn't care if what he and Kain did was repetitive, as long as they loved one another.

Frank wrapped his arms around the somewhat clammy back of his husband, feeling him move around him, over him.

"I love you," Kain said against Frank's chest.

"I love you too." He grabbed hold of the man's hips, hands gripping onto the spots that Kain loathed so much, his love handles. "I love you so damned much." He moved his mouth to the younger man's ear and ran his tongue around each ridge inside.

And as though the universe knew what they were doing, the doorbell rang.

"Damn," Kain said, then looked at Frank embarrassed. It was so rare for him to even swear in the slightest.

Frank smirked. "That good, am I?" He slowly dragged himself out of bed, placing a kiss on Kain's nose and moving his hand beneath the sheets to firmly grab hold of his husband. "Keep that thought."

He could hear Kain laughing, probably rolling his eyes.

He tried to think of the most disgusting thoughts he could as he threw on a pair of comfortable pants. He hoped that whoever was at the door didn't get embarrassed by his bare chest, or the fact that he had every intention of shooing them away and making love to the man waiting in their bed. He pulled the drawstring of his pants as he walked to the door in the kitchen. Opening the door with its tiny glass arch at the top, Frank gaped at the woman on the other side.

"Mother?"

"Frank, you said…" She was crying, clutching her wrist to her chest. "You said that if I needed you…"

"Of course," he wrapped his arm around her back and gently clasped a hand around her shoulder as warning he was about to raise his voice. "Kain, come out here. It's my mother."

"I'll be right out," Kain replied back, as Frank guided his mother to one of the kitchen chairs.

Delicately, he took her left arm and hand and lowered it to the table, wincing as he heard her gasp in pain. "Mother, did _he_ do this to you?"

She said nothing, instead, blinking away tears, an obvious affirmation of his suspicions.

"Does this happen often?" he asked as he looked at her broken wrist. Her face again gave away the truth. "This bad?"

"Only recently," she said, Frank pushing gray hair from her eyes. "He has cancer, and it's too far along now to be stopped. It's my fault he didn't go to the doctor. I wasn't insistent enough. He had his gun, and had me scared, but ended up, it was just the lamp that he hit. I should have known better. He wouldn't actually shoot me"

Frank held her face in his hands, icy blue eyes looking into their mirrored pair. "It isn't your fault, and you don't deserve to have a gun held at you under any circumstances."

"Mrs. Archer?" Frank heard Kain say from behind him.

"Kain, can you call Raine while I go deal with this problem?"

"Frank, you can't. Your father will calm down," his mother said.

"He won't have time," Frank said, darkly before standing, kissing his mother on her forehead and his husband on his cheek. He grabbed a coat, wrapping it over his bare shoulders and chest and walked out the door, unsure what he'd do when he saw the bastard who'd created him—or at least this world's version of him.

"What are you doing?" Wrath heard behind him.

"Trying to adjust the calculations for the nozzle on the rocket," he answered, knowing that by the tone he'd heard in Russell's voice, this wasn't about to drop any time soon.

"Why can't you just do this with alchemy?"

"Because the entire country can't do alchemy," Wrath said in a tone as though he was speaking to a child.

"Not our problem," Russell said, leaning against the desk beside Wrath, pushing a piece of long hair out of his eyes. It never failed to amuse the former homunculus that even as Russell had now grown his hair enough to tie back at the nape of his neck, that damned piece in the front refused to stay away from his eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry, but unless you want me being the only rocket scientist with no time for other activities," Wrath said, poking Russell in the hip with his pencil, "then I suggest you let me figure out how to do this the way I learned in Germany."

Russell sighed, loudly.

"Don't you have something useful to do?" Wrath asked.

"I suppose so. Al copied some of Ed's work, since the mini-genius thinks he's the only one who can find Dante. So Al's been passing it around to the rest of us who can help. I think he just expects you to work off of mine." Wrath continued to work, noticing that Russell wasn't moving, actually looking over his shoulder. "So they come up with all of this without alchemy in Germany?"

"Everything they have they do without alchemy."

"Wow." Wrath looked up at Russell, waiting for the sarcastic remark. "I'm serious. They've managed a lot, according to what you've told me."

Wrath watched as Russell moved to the small sofa opposite the desk they shared, pulling out Ed's research and reading, smiling at Wrath over the stack of paper, tucking the stray blond strands behind his ear. A year ago, Wrath would have had to lock Russell out of their apartment to keep him from jumping Wrath mid-research or egging Wrath on until it happened the other way around. Instead, they worked, exchanging dirty looks and promises of what they'd do the moment Wrath was satisfied with his work.

Ed looked across the table at Roy, who was going over his menu, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Figures the man who could make an eyepatch sexy would look damned good in glasses.

"I thought we were going to miss our reservations," Ed said.

"I hardly think it's my fault that the damned puppy peed on my pants."

"Not your fault, but entertaining as hell hearing you curse out the poor thing."

"Poor thing? You're as bad as Aideen, making excuses for it."

"I told you to convince her to get a cat like Nicholas, but NOOO, when she spotted Flint, you had to go on and on about having a dog back in the house." Ed glanced over his menu, doing his very best impersonation of his husband. "'I love dogs!'" He got a little kick for that, only grinning in return.

"Well, I do. I'm just not so thrilled at puppies at the moment."

Ed laid down his menu. "So is this my second meal?" he asked.

Roy said nothing, only raising an eyebrow over his glasses and the menu.

"You told me anyone carrying your children gets a free meal when you took me out the first time here. And I asked if I got two because they were twins."

Roy closed his menu and extended a hand across the table. "I think you've had quite your share of free meals, Fullmetal."

Ed put his hand in Roy's. "Are we returning to old nicknames, Colonel Bastard?"

"Why not, Edo?"

"Don't call me that."

"What _is_ your dislike of that name? After fifteen years of marriage, I think I deserve to know."

"Aside from the fact that it makes me sound like I'm five?" Roy nodded. "My father used to call me that."

"All these years, you've never told me that," Roy said as he laced their fingers together.

"Not a particularly good memory."

Roy leaned forward and kissed the palm of Ed's hand.

"I'm not going to pretend to be 'the girl' tonight."

Roy smirked, taking off the glasses. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"So, after dinner, are we going to go to the movies and throw popcorn at one another?"

"I think the kids would get upset about us crashing their movie. Besides, I have very little desire to see a B movie horror flick."

"Our life is already enough of one." Ed felt Roy's smooth palm rubbing over his own and smiled to himself.

"For one night, I don't want to think about it," Roy said, "but I'm sure you have an experiment going right now."

"On our date?" Ed asked, surprised not at the accusation, but that he was caught.

"Probably one that doesn't need monitored, but takes several hours to work." Ed did his best not to gape at his husband in shock. "Ed, I know you too well."

"Well, I can't very well just stop. It's not like you don't have men casing down Tucker or Dante every waking hour. It's just that I can't assign my work to someone else." Ed pulled his hand away, and folded his arms across his chest. Tonight was supposed to be different, and here they were, bickering again.

"You have Al, Wrath, Russell, Fletcher and Raine who would all gladly do some of it for you."

Then there was that look in Roy's eyes, that one from the lab that had made Ed buckle so easily into admitting Roy was right, when he really hadn't been sure what Roy was right about. Ed figured it had to do with sex. They certainly hadn't managed more than one quickie in the last month and a half, and before then, it seemed to be constantly make-up sex. It was never just because they wanted to, but because they needed to.

Looking in those eyes again, Ed realized that maybe it wasn't sex that was the issue.

"What would you like?" the waiter asked, interrupting Ed's thoughts.

Roy ordered first, then Ed, the blond only half acknowledging he was ordering anything at all.

Roy hadn't meant that Ed wasn't there physically, not that he really had been. He'd meant that Ed hadn't been there mentally or emotionally for a long time, and as that finally sank into the stubborn young alchemist's head, he felt guilty he hadn't seen it before.

"Ed, are you okay?" Roy asked.

"Yes, I…" He took a deep breath. "I need to use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Roy steepled his hands, elbows on the table. "At least this time you get to use the men's room."

Ed rolled his eyes and started to walk away, but he turned, pulling Roy's arms off of the linen-covered table. "That's bad etiquette," he said as he grabbed the gradually graying head with both hands and mashed their mouths together, wondering if he might have bruised both their lips. He looked into the man's eyes, seeing his own gold ones mirrored in their reflective black surface, and just a bit of that hurt he'd seen earlier gone.

**_Glasgow, Scotland_**

"Eddie, get back here!" Noa's husband yelled as he chased after the dark-haired three-year-old.

"Papap!" the two year old yelled as it sought out the tall blond in the crowd.

With a smile, Hohenheim picked up the little toddler, whose chubby little hands grabbed hold of his face.

"Eddie, you can't run off like that," the little boy's father said, making the set of dark brown eyes dart down and look apologetic.

"But, Papap," the little boy said.

Hohenheim loved this boy, not to mention his little baby brother Albert, names that had been Noa's idea with Hohenheim's approval. Still, every time this little squirming bundle called him "Papap," a twinge of guilt struck him, not only for the loss of getting to watch his own grandchildren grow up, but also for his presence in this Edward's life that his illness and Dante had prevented with his own Edward's.

As he handed the little boy over to his father, he heard someone yelling in the distance.

"Why won't you listen to me? My father was kidnapped! Armstrongs don't just run off. I saw him being taken!" A young man was thrown out onto the street.

Though he couldn't say exactly, Hohenheim felt that the name Armstrong was important, and he knew he needed to talk to this teenager.


	41. Chapter 41

_**A/N: Bar-Ohki, **thanks. **iluvEdo**, yeah, Aideen's going through a stage. Thank you._

**Chapter 41 **

_Resolve_

"Should I get the two of you a room?" Aideen's calm, smooth voice whispered.

Laughing nervously at himself, Phillip realized he was grabbing hold of his best friend's hand after the most recent scare on the screen. Quickly, he released Nicholas and looked over at Aideen, seeing her hunched over something, and knowing his girlfriend, she probably hadn't done more than look at them out of the corner of her eye.

"Aideen," he whispered, "what are you doing?" He looked beneath her hunched upper body, seeing what he really should have expected to be there. "Is that a book?"

"You're reading in the middle of a movie!" Nicholas said, much too loud and earning shushes not only from the other patrons, but his and Aideen's personal guards a few rows back.

"I could pretend to be as scared as the two of you at some poorly-made monsters and shock tactics," she whispered back, sticking her tongue out at her brother.

Phillip loved Aideen, he really did, but he preferred dragging Nicholas on dates with them as either a double or a third wheel. Not only did he have someone to talk to when Aideen pulled something like reading in the middle of a movie, but Nicholas always managed to bring out a side in Aideen that no one else could.

"You'll hurt your eyes," Phillip whispered, offering Aideen his hand, smiling to himself when he found it filled with her own soft, thin one. The book didn't leave her lap, but she did shift to lean against his shoulder.

"Shit," Nicholas muttered at Phillip's left. "Now I know why Aideen left that turtleneck on. It's cold in here."

Phillip snickered and kissed Aideen on the top of her head. In turn, she ran her fingers up to his hair and laced them through his cocoa brown curls. Her eyes still refused to leave the pages of the book, but it didn't matter to him. He was content.

0o0o0o0

"You're a very kind young man," Frank's mother said to Kain as he treated her broken wrist the best he could until Raine could get there. He smiled to her, offering her a towel full of ice.

"I don't know how long it will last in here. Our cooling system's broken, so it's pretty warm in here."

"And I'm sure that's why my son came to the door in only his pajama pants," she said with a knowing look and a sad smile. "You don't seem much like my Frank's type. But he doesn't seem much like my Frank anymore."

Kain nodded, trying to keep an aura of calm, when he was actually concerned for what Frank would do. He'd seen his husband's anger in the past, and he hated the idea of what an event like this might unleash.

"I wish I'd spent more time since he came back getting to know him."

"You still have time. I think he'd like that." Kain ran a hand down the older woman's arm.

"I was surprised when we got an invitation to your wedding," she said.

"You're his parents. We wouldn't leave you out."

Again there was a sad smile that quickly faded. "What do you think he's going to do to Frank Senior?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but if I know your son, he's not going to simply have a talk with him."

The doorbell rang, then rapid knocking followed. Raine was here.

Kain went to the door and answered it, barely getting out any piece of a greeting before the doctor was in the room, looking over Frank's mother, a little redhead following behind her.

"Hello, Mr. Kain."

"Hello, Juliana."

"How often does this happen to you?" Raine asked rather gruffly.

"What?"

"How often do you let that bast—jerk hit you?" Rain apparently was watching her language around the little girl. She clapped her hands and held them over the wounded wrist.

"It isn't as though it's his fault, I—"

"So your entire marriage?" Raine said, cutting her off. "You need more help than just this wrist." She then looked down at the redheaded girl at her side. "Juliana, promise me when you find someone you care about, you don't let them do this to you."

"No, Grandmama," the little girl said, using the only grandmother-related phrase Raine approved of, as it sounded refined enough she didn't care that it signified a bit about her age.

"Because this isn't love. Someone you love doesn't purposely hurt you." Looking again at Mrs. Archer, Raine shook her head of mostly gray hair—she'd stopped dying it a few years ago—and began wrapping the wrist. "Personally, I hope Vato is a little late stopping Frank so he does a little damage."

Kain had to agree, but he feared what might happen if his husband's fury went unchecked.

0o0o0o0

Walking ahead, Ed opened the door to the restaurant for Roy, earning himself an inquisitive eyebrow and a faint smile. "Just fair," Ed said. After all, Roy had done all of this for Ed the first time, and it seemed reasonable enough to return those gestures.

Roy stepped ahead, Ed taking just a moment to enjoy the man's behind before taking his right hand in his left, which was squeezed in return. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the baby store where they'd bought all of the twins' baby furniture was now a jewelry store.

"Oh, I'd never realized before that the store had changed."

"What?" Roy asked. Ed tipped his head toward the window where he'd frozen those years before. "Been like that for three years. Really observant, aren't you?"

"I don't know," Ed said, pulling out a black box from his coat pocket. "I think I've managed to observe this just fine." He handed the box to Roy, putting his right hand in his pants pocket as he waited for his husband to open it with only his left—Ed wasn't relinquishing the right one.

"My alchemic symbol?" Roy asked.

Ed nodded. "I figured you didn't exactly have something that was passed down from teacher to student like I did." He tapped the flamel at his neck beneath the white dress shirt. "So, I worked on that. Just like the other one to ward against Dante, it is functional," Then he added with a warm smile. "just in case some arrogant upstart decides to rip off the back of your gloves with an automail spike."

Roy pulled Ed out of the way of oncoming pedestrians and kissed him as they leaned against the wall of the women's clothing store that had remained unchanged after fifteen years.

"Very thoughtful," Roy said, running his knuckles down Ed's cheek. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, don't think it's just the kids I'm trying to protect with my long hours in the lab. It would be nice to be able to go back to that restaurant and actually get to sit where we did on our first date, without guards concerned over our safety in front of the window making us sit somewhere else."

"Yes, it would." Again, Roy leaned down to kiss him, Ed pushing his own body up on his toes and leaning just a bit into the still-strong arms that held him. "Happy anniversary, Ed."

"Happy anniversary, Roy." Ed grabbed his husband's face with both hands. "We've had two shitty years, but love has never been the issue. You know that, don't you?"

There was enough hesitation before Roy answered "Yes," that told Ed that Roy had his doubts.

"Well, you'd better. I'm obsessive when it comes to protecting my family. Sometimes, it takes a little smack on the head to get me to stop."

"Of course, Fullmetal. I smack you with my hand," Ed felt Roy wrap his hand around the automail wrist. "and you will smack me with yours. Not exactly equivalent exchange, since I'd be the one needing to visit Raine."

There was a definite smile on Roy's face, mixed with something else, that fire that the Flame Alchemist had always been known for. "The guards are getting anxious just having us walking down the street," Ed said, feeling his husband's arms around his waist and wrapping his own around the taller man's neck. "Not to mention we're giving the reporters trying to stay hidden behind those cars across the street photos to last a few months."

"Then let's make it worth it," Roy said, dipping his head to Ed's neck, making the younger man gasp out. "They've done enough guessing when we'll divorce."

Ed threaded his hands through black and gray hair, realizing that if he didn't soon get Roy home, they'd end up providing the photographers with pictures to embarrass their children for years to come.

"Mmm," Ed hummed, turning to latch his teeth onto Roy's earlobe. "Home. Now."

"I would have to agree," Ed heard the commander of their guard say behind him. "You're causing quite a scene."

"Yes, Commander Ross," the couple said in unison, though glad to see she was at least smiling.

0o0o0o0

**_Glasgow, Scotland_**

Hohenheim sat opposite Phillip Reid, the stepson of Alex Armstrong, a miner in Scotland, who had been captured by men and women who all but met the description of the Thule Society. Hohenheim had asked Albert, Noa's husband, to take little Eddie back home while he talked to this teenager.

"So, if he was taken over five years ago, why come here now?"

"I'm old enough to travel here on my own. And it isn't as though I get a day off from the mines that often."

"Mines?"

"After my father was kidnapped, someone had to earn money to take care of the family. I have a little brother and mother at home."

"So you work to provide for them at your young age?"

"It isn't unheard of." The young man sipped at the drink Hohenheim had bought for him.

"But it seems terribly unfair."

"It's life. If my father could handle it, so can I." Phillip folded his hands over his glass. "You seemed really interested when I started talking about what I saw that night. Do you know something?"

"I think I might, but it is too dangerous—"

"I will do anything to save him. He raised me from the time I was a baby. I've never been old enough before, but I've got just over a year to find him before he's declared legally dead and the mine foreman can officially pursue my mother." There was a coldness in those dark brown eyes. "I can't let that happen. It is bad enough that the man is around my little brother as much as he is. He's a terrible influence, and I don't like him.

"Tell me what I need to do to help you, Mr. Elric, and I will do it."

"You would trust me that quickly?"

"You are the first to genuinely offer me help." The young man's hand reached across the table, Hohenheim taking it and shaking it. He would have to speak to Noa, explain to her that he'd be making plans to return to Germany and she needed to stay here with her family. He'd put his blood family in danger often enough with his alchemy. He wasn't risking what he considered—and the world believed to be—his adopted daughter as well.

0o0o0o0

**_Amestris_**

Frank reached under the dash of the car, blindly grabbing for the gunrack beneath the passenger side dash, and with a few quick flicks of the clasps, he removed his husband's pistol. He then moved back upright and opened the door, swinging his legs out of the vehicle and getting out quickly. He slammed the door shut loudly, hearing it echo around the charming little cul de sac. He stalked up the sidewalk to the quaint, picturesque home his alternate mother must have worked so hard to keep that way, one his actual mother would have loved to have lived in, rather than a London flat they had been just barely able to afford. Thinking how much his own mother had always envied homes like this with their carefully trimmed flower bushes and nicely manicured lawns, it made him sick that such a place would house so much hatred. He had never had a lot at home, but until she died, there had been love in that tiny home in London where his mother had raised him.

Walking to the door and pulling at the brass handle, he found it was locked, but could still hear the voice yelling from inside.

"I told you that if you walked out, you'd never see the inside of this house again."

Frank looked the door over again, seeing it wasn't very new, wasn't very sturdy. His frosty blue eyes narrowed before a heavy military-issue boot kicked open the wood door. "Honey, I'm home," he called as the door cracked as he pushed it open completely, his voice dripping with sarcasm and loathing.

"What do you think you're doing here?" the father he was now thankful to have never known said as he walked through the front door and found the older, mirror image of himself sitting on a chair, drinking a snifter of brandy.

"I think I'm here to make you suffer, old man," he said, finger twitching at the trigger of the gun at his side. "Who the hell do you think you are to lay a hand on my mother? When I'm through with you tonight, you'll wish the cancer had gotten the chance to kill you."

He grabbed the man by his shirt collar, pulling him partly out of the chair so he could look him in the eyes.

"How dare you disobey your own father? I raised you to have respect."

"You have respect for nothing and no one, so how am I to have respect for you?" Frank tossed the old man back in the chair. "Really, I'd think at your age your bones would be too brittle to do any damage, but I see I was wrong." He raised his gun and pointed it squarely at the mostly bald head.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do with that?"

"I'm not sure if you're aware how these work, though you managed to fire it at Mother, but when I pull this little trigger, a bullet will come out and end your miserable excuse for a life." Frank wanted to laugh at the man, who seemed to be seeking some way to stop him. He put just the slightest bit of pressure on the trigger. "I think you must come to terms with dying right now, because I assure you that I don't have an issue in killing. I guarantee that common genetics or not, I'm not going to spare a man who abuses his wife and fires a weapon at her."

"And what about a man who fires a weapon at his father?"

"You aren't my father. My father's dead… as far as I'm concerned."

Though there was definitely fear in the older man's grey-green eyes, there was something else, and it had Frank concerned. He thought at first it might have been the desire for death, but as the man's right hand twitched, Frank saw the gun sitting next to his "father."

"Tsk. Tsk," Frank said as he quickly snatched the gun from his father's side before the old man could manage even the slightest move toward it. He put the man's revolver in his coat pocket and stepped closer, pressing the gun to the man's forehead. "Beg me not to kill you."

"Frank, put down the gun!" a gravelly voice said from behind him.

"Falman, stay out of this," Frank said, not breaking eye contact with the man on the other side of his weapon. "When I asked Kain to call your girlfriend, I only meant to help my mother."

"Frank, if you kill him, it won't do you any good. You'll end up in jail, and no one wants that, not for you, not for Kain. Your motherh as already admitted to Raine and your husband that this waste of air beats her. He'll probably die in prison."

"He deserves to suffer," Frank said, pulling the trigger and hearing the distinctive click. A devilish grin spread across his face. "Tell me, you old son of a bitch, do you need to change your adult diapers now? Be grateful I grabbed my husband's gun on purpose. He doesn't keep it loaded in the car like mine." He looked over at the gray-haired officer. "Please, help me dispose of this trash legally."

0o0o0o0

Roy found himself on the sofa, which had been reupholstered after Ed raised a fit about it being replaced, his husband laying on top of him, covering him like a small blanket—not that he'd add the small part aloud. Sex wasn't out of the question yet; Roy wasn't that tired, but they needed this, exactly as they were. Ed had his left arm wrapped around Roy's neck, the right behind his back in the small space between Roy and the arm of the couch. Roy was absent-mindedly running a hand through Ed's hair, his other hand rather enjoying its place at Ed's behind as they simply talked to one another like they hadn't for ages.

"Al's been married for over ten years and he still hasn't figured Winry out," Ed said, laughing at the end of his little story about his brother. "I'm so damned glad I'm gay. Women are impossible to figure out."

"You're not any easier," Roy said, smiling as he rubbed a cheek along the top of Ed's head.

"That's bull and you know it." Ed turned his head so his chin was somewhat painfully digging into Roy's chest and gold eyes were now trying to bore holes into his head. "I'm easy to figure out. Just a bit difficult to do anything about."

"Minor difference, husband of mine."

Roy felt the flesh hand behind his neck make its best attempt to smack him.

"You know," Roy said as Ed laid his head back down, "Nicholas wants to redecorate his room."

"That's fine as long as it doesn't give Aideen ideas. I'd rather not have to decorate hers to look like a dungeon." Ed sighed, increasing the pressure on Roy's body for a moment. "I've tried to get her to wear something other than black."

"I'd just like if she changed what she's wearing a bit."

"Other than the color? What's wrong with it?"

"It's, well, form fitting. And I can't exactly argue with her that she should wear something that covers her up better, since it runs from neck to foot."

"Still concerned about bras that don't lock?"

"I'm over-protective of her and hypocritical because I cheer Nicholas on, but the fact that she's had a boyfriend for two months at her age bothers me."

"I was only a year older when I had a fiancé."

"Don't remind me. I'm a cradle-robber."

"Yeah, but your mine."

Roy paused, tangling his hands in Ed's hair, actually envying his husband for the fact that he was blond. Ed's hair would have to be largely gray before it ever became noticeable. To himself, he wondered if fifteen more years down the line the younger man would still keep his hair so long. Probably.

"So," Ed said, "are we okay? Or at least better?"

"I think so," Roy said. "I know I'm _feeling_ better."

"Feeling better?" Ed almost immediately jerked himself upright, hands propping his body up to look down at Roy. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you keeping something about your health from me?"

Roy put his hands at either side of Ed's head at his temples, fingers in the blond hair there. "Stress, Ed. All this was stressful."

"I could have told you that," Ed said with a roll of his eyes. "It isn't like it was easy on me either, but I didn't use the words feel better." He was getting angry, certain that Roy was hiding something and had been for some time, and in reality, that wasn't too far from the truth.

"The stress was causing, as my knowledgeable sister put it, 'physical manifestations.' Fighting with you had me literally feeling like my heart was breaking."

Gold eyes twitched from side to side, looking over every inch of Roy's face, seeming to grow just a bit glossy from gathering tears. "And you kept this from me? Why?"

"We weren't exactly on the best of terms very often, and I didn't want to spoil the good moments we had."

Ed grimaced, looking pained and incredibly guilty. "I'm so sorry, Roy." Then the anger came back, and Roy found himself being smacked with both hands, each accentuating his words as he spoke. "But why. Didn't. You. Tell me? Because that's. A. Shitty. Excuse."

Roy wrapped his arms around his head as his sides were beaten by his husband.

"Because as angry as I was about the amount of time you were away from me, I want you to find Dante," Roy confessed. He felt the hitting stop and parted his arms enough to look through the slit he'd created.

At that, he found Ed pulling his arms down, the small body leaning down to press their cheeks together. "I love you, Roy. No matter how obsessive I get, that doesn't change." Ed laid his head down on Roy's chest and was silent for a while.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Roy smiled, resuming their earlier position, knowing his husband was listening, most likely, to his heartbeat.

"It's still going strong," Roy said, watching as Ed's entire body showed he'd been flustered and just a bit embarrassed at being caught.

"If it's so strong, are you up for some more vigorous exercise?"

"As long as you're not talking about sparring, I think so."

"I was thinking a little jog up the stairs. They say if your heart can take that, it can handle, well, other activities." And with that, Ed smiled devilishly and took off up the stairs, Roy doing his best to chase after him. He was unbuttoning his shirt as he went, and by the time he got to the door of his bedroom, he found Ed wiggling out of his suit pants, and for a moment, he stopped and stared.

"What are you wearing?"

"Underwear," Ed said, looking down at himself. "What? They're briefs."

Roy raised an eyebrow, noticing how the cotton hugged every curve of Ed's behind and cupping rather nicely in the front. He'd seen the things on mannequins in storefronts, as they hadn't quite reached popularity in Amestris yet. If they looked this good on Ed, Roy wanted to keep them around for a long time. As he saw every twitch of the muscles beneath the fabric, he decided it would be for a very long time.

Letting his white shirt fall to the ground, Roy circled Ed like a predator, Ed looking very little like a victim as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Are you trying to get me dizzy?"

At that, Roy found himself pushing Ed onto the bed. "Just enjoying you with those on."

"I'd rather you enjoyed me with them off, but if you insist…"

Roy attached himself to Ed's neck, his mouth leaving a trail of tiny red love bites from neck to collar bone as Ed grabbed hold of his sides, left hand leaving tracks from fingernails. All the while, Roy worked to get his pants unfastened.

"I love you, Ed," he said against the salty skin. "I love you so much and I've missed you."

"Roy!" Ed cried out in surprise as Roy's mouth found a nipple and began to attack it. "Oh, more, please, more." He was breathing heavily beneath Roy. "I want you. Now." Ed's hands moved to wriggle himself out of the briefs, sliding them over the lean, muscular legs until he kicked them to the floor, those legs circling around Roy's waist.

Roy pulled down the remaining item of clothing on his own body and began to slide within the grasp of Ed's legs until he was face to face with Ed's very obvious need. "How on earth did you manage to keep this thing tucked away in those itty," He kissed the head. "bitty," He licked it. "shorts?"

He quickly moved to position himself over top of Ed, facing away from his eager husband, his legs now straddling the blond head. He felt a set of mismatched hands guiding his own member to a very warm, very wet mouth below. This was always a struggle with their mismatched height, but tonight it was worth it to feel Ed, to taste Ed. Completely worth it.

Doing his best to hold his balance on just one arm, Roy moved to fondle lightly over Ed's balls, cupping them in his hand and feeling the blond curls tickle over his fingertips and the heel of his hand. All the while, he could feel Ed, doing everything he could with his lips and tongue, attempting as best he could to take Roy into his mouth. It was a battle for the shorter man, but Roy didn't care. He didn't exactly have plans of releasing inside of his husband's mouth.

He wrapped his hand around Ed, letting two fingers point upwards along with the man's member, and began to lick and suck over those as well.

"Damn, Roy," Ed said. "Move your fingers." There was a groan as Roy moved his tongue to move around the head. "Want to fe-eel you."

At that, Roy obeyed, moving those fingers back, and circling them around the puckered hole that had gotten far too little of this kind of use in the last few months. Instinctively, Ed's legs were parting farther as Roy's finger finally penetrated, a grunt from below echoing over Roy's member. It earned a moan from the older man in return. For just a moment, he forgot what he was doing until he felt Ed clenching around his finger, a very tight reminder of what he'd intended when all this started.

He moved the second finger to join the first, bobbing his head all the while to ease his husband's discomfort, and guessing by the noises and sensations rolling over and around his own member, there wasn't really much of any left. Slowly, and more than reluctantly, he moved away from Ed's glorious mouth and agile pink tongue, situating himself back between the flesh and metal legs and smiling down at the glazed face of his former subordinate.

Roy positioned himself at Ed's entrance. "I love you Ed."

He got a moan in return as he pushed into the enveloping heat, lifting Ed's legs to wrap around his waist as he continued to steadily move inside.

"Damn," Ed said, wincing in pain, but still overloading in pleasure. "Why the hell did I stay out in that lab all that time?" Roy soon found his arms full of the agile body of his blond lover and husband, their lips mashing together, Ed drawing Roy's tongue in his mouth, simulating to it what he'd have done with Roy's member if he'd had better access. The cold automail and warm flesh arms wrapped around Roy's shoulders, tightening each time the smaller man's body arched in pleasure as Roy repeatedly struck his prostate.

"Roy, shit!" Ed cried out, moving his head, finding Roy's nipple and biting down on it, then circling it with his tongue.

Roy moved the arm that wasn't holding him upright to pull Ed's head toward his, kissing him, telling him once again that he loved him, hearing from that wonderful raspy voice that he was loved too before feeling the warmth between them and the tightness around his cock as they both reached completion. Still inside Ed and encircling the man's chest with his arms, Roy rolled to the side and held him closely. They laid there for some time like that, having trouble telling where one began and the other ended.

0o0o0o0

"Are you done yet?"

"These designs will allow for missiles, not just rockets," Wrath said, making Russell feel like a child with his tone. "Do you have any idea how useful they will be in battle?"

"Yeah, yeah, the normal people get to fight. It's really nice." Russell refrained from making a remark about having a missile that he needed Wrath to take care of. Dirty jokes like that were guaranteed to deprive him of sex for at least the night, and he knew better. Wrath had far more will-power than Russell did, and they both knew it.

"I don't make fun of you when you're looking through dusty volumes of alchemy research." Still, as Russell looked at his lover's face, he knew Wrath was done with his work. He was holding out to make the older man cave. And as far as Russell was concerned, if it meant getting some time with Wrath on more than just professional work, Russell would cave faster than the mines to the north.

"Please," Russell said, knowing looking innocent wouldn't work, but begging was a nice start. There was no response. "Damn it, I've been wearing this son of a bitching thing all day, and you're just going to make me suffer."

"Oh, it isn't even one of the big ones," Wrath said, rolling his eyes and leaning back from the desk. "Besides, I think you've got a bit of a masochistic streak in you. Otherwise, why would you let me fight with you so often before sex?"

"I fight back."

"Well, you try." Russell walked over to Wrath, prepared to show him this was more than a "try" when he found himself pulled directly onto the larger man's lap, his mouth covered by his lover's, and a knee pressing up on his behind, adding pressure to the toy currently inside of him. He didn't know at what point it happened, but he'd lost the upper hand in this relationship, and found more often than not, Wrath called the shots. He had no one to blame but himself, to be honest, since he'd been the one trying to build the younger man's self-confidence.

"You know," Wrath said, whispering in Russell's ear, "I think we should take care of your problem since you're suffering so much."

Damn him, Russell knew exactly where this was going. Wrath would get him off, not asking for reciprocation in order to hold it over Russell for a favor later.

As a hand began to deftly unfasten his belt then pants, he didn't care. Wrath once again kissed him just before the massive hand wrapped around him, making Russell gasp into Wrath's mouth, giving access to a more-than-eager tongue. While the left arm held him in place, Russell felt the leg beneath him move, shifting the plug he'd worn at Wrath's request since noon that day, making it more than tease but full-out press against his prostate. He'd been mostly hard all day, and it took very little more than a few more bumps of that knee and the pulling and twisting of a very skilled, and somewhat chafing, right hand to make the older man mess his pants in a way he hadn't since puberty.

"You know," Wrath said as he whispered in Russell's ear, "I love to watch you like that. I love the look on your face." Then there was a chuckle. "But you're still going to owe me."

Russell just groaned, feeling like he needed a shower.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas leapt up the front steps of their home as Aideen gave Phillip a quick peck goodnight. She'd been glaring at him for some time, and though he could guess why, he didn't understand why she was so bent out of shape about it.

"Bye, Phillip," she said as she shut the door to the house behind them.

No sooner were brother and sister alone together, than Aideen reached through the collar of her shirt to grab at something in her chest. Standing, staring curiously at his sister, Nicholas wondered what the hell she was doing. Before it even dawned on him, he found himself being pelted with popcorn kernels.

"Did you have to dump what was left of your popcorn down my shirt?" she asked.

"Come on, that was a feat in itself with you wearing your dark and dreary turtleneck."

"Do you have any idea what it's like to have those stuck down your chest with no opportunity to get to a bathroom to remove them?"

"Come on, you could have done that."

"Not in front of Phillip, and certainly not in public," she said, giving him a death glare. "Unlike men, women have a standard for not adjusting themselves in public."

"Please, you just do it when you think no one is looking. I've seen more than enough women to a discreet area to readjust their bra strap, or do one of these." Nicholas pushed underneath his chest and shifted around the boobs he didn't have. "You suffered because you didn't want to get embarrassed. And if I remember right, I'm the one who ended up with half a cup of ice down my back."

Aideen was already at the stair steps. "I think I hear Dad and Papa."

"Please tell me they didn't forget the silencing transmutation."

"No," she said as she climbed, her voice turning to a whisper. "They're sleeping."

The twins went upstairs together, Nicholas anxious to see if his parents had, indeed made up. He made his way to their bedroom door, and watched as Aideen bravely poked her head inside. He'd done that one time at the worst possible moment, and he hadn't quite gotten up the nerve to do it again, even at the right one. It had taken him a week to look his fathers in the eyes.

"They've just had showers, or at least _a_ shower." She went to her bedroom and came back with two rose bushes. "Help me take these inside. I've got two more."

He went to her room and retrieved the other two and followed her into their parents room. She had already positioned two on the left side of the bed, where their dad always slept, signaling for Nicholas to do the same on their papa's. He saw her looking at them, their dad with his chest to their papa's back, automail arm wrapped tightly around their older father, their legs a mass of lumps beneath the blankets. Nicholas didn't often say this about his own parents, but it was a sweet image, his dad looking content with his cheek on the pale shoulders in front of him, their papa with his fingers laced around the automail ones.

Aideen closed her eyes for a moment, meditating as usual before doing this, and then went around to each of the bushes, making them form a canopy over their fathers, rosebuds all ready to bloom at first light, thorns nowhere to be seen.

They walked out of the room together.

"I hope I get to have that one day," Aideen said, quietly.

"You will," Nicholas reassured her. As they both went to their respective bedrooms, he looked over at his sister, just wishing he could figure her out sometimes. As she closed the door, he wondered if maybe his parents had the right idea. If he couldn't understand his own twin, what hope did he have for the rest of the female population?


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42 **

**_Glasgow_**

_One month later_

"You shouldn't have gone to all of that trouble," the young Scot was telling Hohenheim as he finished packing his trunk.

"We are going to be gone for some time, and I want to ensure that no one thinks you have simply abandoned your mother to do this. Aside from that, the Thules don't simply trust just anyone that shows an interest in their work. We are going to have to prove ourselves."

The young man nodded.

Noa exited her bedroom, looking over at Hohenheim. "Please, let me go with you," she said, gently jiggling her two-month-old named for her husband, and in a small way Hohenheim's own son.

"Don't go, Papap," said a voice from a dark little head below.

Hohenheim didn't know if this was the Gate's doing or not, as permanently attaching his soul to this restored and aging body had been, but it made his chest ache to leave the woman he'd been treating as a daughter and his adopted grandchildren. He pulled little Eddie into his arms and ruffled his hair.

"I'll be back just as soon as I can." He looked over at Noa, his eyes instructing her not to tell him if that wasn't true.

"Come back," Eddie said, big brown eyes pleading as two chubby little hands held either side of Hohenheim's face.

The older man hugged the little boy and went to Noa, placing a light kiss to her forehead before turning to her husband and shaking his hand then helping him to pry the little boy's arms from his neck. As he heard the small protests and repeated "No"s, the alchemist remembered why he had snuck out during the night the last time he felt he had to part with his family.

"Well, Phil, are we ready to go?"

A curly brown head nodded, and the two set out for Germany.

As they climbed into his car, he though he heard Noa's voice calling to him from the distance. "Say hello…" but a wind blew and he lost the rest, only to pick up the end. "…you come back."

It was for the best. He had a suspicion that what he'd failed to hear was her own prediction of what he was about to encounter.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

"Aideen," Roy said, looking at his daughter, her arms across her chest, looking much like Ed always had mid-pout.

"Why, why do they want us to show off?" she said. "You two do it. The real Fullmetal and Flame."

"We probably will," Ed said, reaching up to put his hands on her shoulders, "but it would mean a lot not just to the parade planners but to your papa and me."

Aideen looked down to meet his eyes. "One condition."

"What?" both fathers asked in unison.

"Your coat," she said. "You let me wear the red coat."

Ed paused for a moment. He and Roy had been debating what to do about the coat that wasn't in shreds in the box in the closet. Both twins had always loved the thing, enjoying its bright color and design on the back when they were younger, and the fact that it had always been a symbol of their father.

"Come on," she said. "There's no way Nicholas is ever going to fit in it."

"Hey!" Ed said, somewhat insulted.

"His shoulders are too broad. But even if I'm taller than you, I can fit in it." Ed scowled at her, but Aideen only rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's true. And you never wear it anymore."

Though the coat was Ed's to do with as he liked, he looked back at Roy, with his eyes expressing the other concern about that coat was where the symbol ultimately originated. While it was true that Nicholas Flamel, someone who was supposedly from Frank and Wrath's Earth, who had created the design, that symbol meant something to Ed because it had been passed down to him from his teacher. And Izumi had received it from her own teacher, Dante. Both parents had been concerned that having any of the family wearing it would be like waving that bright red coat in front of an angry bull. Then again, Ed continued to wear the necklace and Al, a patch on the side of his coat.

Roy shrugged.

"Fine," Ed said.

With a quick dash from the study up the stairs, Aideen yelled back her thanks.

The two fathers walked together up the stairs, Roy reaching forward to take Ed's hand in his own with a quick squeeze. These actions were becoming less of a conscious act on his part, and likely Ed's as well, as they continued to repair the damage the last few years had done. He smiled as the grip around his own hand tightened, rather tentatively, since it was the automail hand wrapped around his own.

Then, there was a bright blue flash from their bedroom, making Ed dart up the stairs. "What the hell have you done to my coat?"

"I just made it fit better," Aideen called out of the room.

And like it or not, the alterations she had made did make Ed's coat fit her perfectly, synched just a bit at her waist, sleeves lengthened.

Ed was still standing in shock that his daughter had modified his coat, mouth opening and closing as he tried to argue about what she'd done. Roy on the other hand was trying to come to terms with the fact that she looked more than just nice standing in what could be her own twist on Ed's clothing. His daughter was growing into a very pretty woman, and he really wasn't sure at what point it had happened.

Really, there needed to be a warning for parents when that happened, some kind of notice that the little baby girl was just shy of being a woman.

0o0o0o0

Kain and Frank walked through the crowd in the streets of Central, looking for any sign of weapons. With a parade this big to celebrate Roy's fifteenth year as fuhrer, the possibility of an assassination attempt was likely. Two men with unregistered guns, three other people with throwing knives, had been captured so far, and there was still over an hour until the parade began.

Kain wanted to extend a hand out to his husband, knowing that Frank was still dealing with the fact that both he and his "mother" had come to the decision that in all honesty there was no way they could have any kind of normal family relationship. She spent a large part of her time expecting him to behave the way her actual son had, and Frank seemed to grow angry not only at this expectation but at her behavior that differed from his own strong, independent mother. They hadn't parted on necessarily bad terms, but it had definitely disappointed Kain's husband when the two had decided to keep their contact to a minimum, barely more than old friends or acquaintances.

The best that Kain could offer at this moment was a quick hand on Frank's arm and an understanding smile, but as he saw the usually cold blue eyes warm at the small gesture, he knew it was worth it.

"This is ridiculous, you know that," Frank said, as those eyes once again chilled as he scanned the crowd. "I know that Ed and Roy don't want this, Aideen certainly doesn't, and Nicholas seems neutral, so why does parliament and the city council insist this be done?"

"They didn't get to hold an anniversary parade at ten years because of all of the reconstruction and peace talks with Drachma, so now that we've been under Roy's leadership fifteen years, it made sense."

"Yes, but with everything going on," Frank said, watching carefully as a woman pulled a pack of cigarettes from a coat pocket, then moving on, "was an enormous parade really that wise. Those of us not _in_ this are having to ensure that the leader for more than a dozen years doesn't get himself killed."

"I know," Kain said, "but this is one of the things as furher that's expected of him. Especially considering the biggest threat to the country is one the people really don't and can't know exists."

Frank shook his head, his mood seeming impassive as always, save for the light brush of fingers against Kain's. The younger man knew that this couldn't last forever, as they were still fairly newlyweds, but he'd enjoy it while he could.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas stood at the parade line-up area, dancing around to keep warm and stretched, looking over at his sister in their father's coat, doing only some mild stretching. He knew honestly he would probably lose, but he hoped it wasn't too badly. He looked down at the military-style coat he wore, double-breasted wool with gold buttons and turned up cuffs. It crossed his mind that as the blond with automail, he shouldn't really be wearing the item that puts people in mind of his papa, but the red coat simply didn't fit him. That and he liked his own.

He watched as Aideen put on two marked pyrotech gloves, making him immediately pull on one of his own.

"Don't think I'm going to go easy on you," she said, face unreadable.

Nicholas rolled his black eyes around their sockets. "I wouldn't expect you to."

Aideen raised her eyebrows and nodded. Looking at his sister, he was actually glad she'd gotten the coat. It seemed to be one of the few things since their parents' anniversary that had gotten her to really smile and be excited. He wasn't sure what changed that night, but it was as though she'd gone right back to where she'd been after he'd lost his arm, and back then, he remembered, she had been absolutely unbearable for about a month.

At that thought, Nicholas saw a blonde from his class jogging over. He'd gone on a couple of dates with her, but had dumped her when she wanted something more serious. Nicholas preferred the idea of exploring all his options. Just because his dad had gotten himself in a permanent relationship at the age of sixteen didn't mean he had any intention of doing it. If he followed in anyone's footsteps, it would likely be his papa's. Though, he thought to himself as she ran over toward him, she did have a rather nice chest.

"Hi, Nicholas," she said. "Are you really going to spar against your sister in the parade?"

"We were asked to, and we do it all the time at home anyway."

"Well," she said, standing on her toes to kiss him on the cheek, "I hope you win."

He smiled as she ran off, only to spot a royal car from Creta in the distance. It pulled up beside his parents' vehicle, and out of it stepped the rotund figure of the prime minister of that country. He immediately spotted Nicholas and opened his arms in greeting.

"Ah, my boy," he said in his rolling western accent. "You are a sight for sore eyes. Getting more handsome every day and so tall, I dare say you have completely passed up your miniscule father."

"Who you calling miniscule, you old goat?" Nicholas heard his dad say as he climbed out of the car. Thankfully, the thirteen-year-old friendship between the prime minister of the country to the west meant he knew the younger man's buttons, but didn't incur his wrath for pushing them.

"Edward, how are you?"

"Fine. I was glad to hear you got elected." Nicholas stifled a laugh as his smaller father was picked up into the large man's arms.

"Well, being an emissary from Creta to Amestris during the greatest time of peace between our countries helped just a bit. And I owe that largely to your husband. Is he still in the car?"

"Yeah, dealing with something over the radio."

"Then where's the lovely young woman?"

"Right here, Sir," Aideen said as she came over.

"My, you're becoming quite the beautiful young lady. If I was a believer in arranged marriages, I'd be trying to get you and my grandson to consider it."

"Speaking of him," Nicholas said. "Where's he at?"

As though on cue, the fair-haired young man stepped out of the car. With a shy smile, he greeted both twins, waving. It had been a long time since Nicholas had seen him, but he'd definitely grown into his features from the fifteen-year-old he'd met a year and a half ago.

For some reason, he had the sudden desire to really and truly beat his sister in their spar.

0o0o0o0

"Here, think you can take a break from watching for this?" Russell asked. His lover looked down at him as he stood holding a large cone of cotton candy, taking a bite of the spun sugar while holding up a caramel apple to the taller man.

Wrath took the thing and looked at it. "You know, just because I like apples doesn't mean I want to eat them all the time."

"If you don't want it…" Russell said, making as though to grab for the apple.

"Don't you dare." Wrath bent down and kissed Russell on the cheek.

Never had the older man considered being in a relationship, but he was actually enjoying what he had with the man at his side now.

"Well, are you ready for the demonstration of the fireworks you've been working on?" Russell said.

"I just hope they get the timing right."

"So, why aren't you trying to make sure it happens?"

"Because the point of all this was to demonstrate that even people without alchemic ability can manage this."

Russell could have purred at the sensation of the large fingers working their way through his fine blond hair, massaging at his scalp.

Wrath took a bite of the apple, seeming to savor the flavor. "I love you Russell."

"Me too," Russell said, knowing this was a bit of a cop-out. Though Wrath had said it in far more serious situations than this one, Russell had yet to actually utter the words. "Me, too."

0o0o0o0

Ed sat in the car, waving out the window with his left hand, Roy at his side, doing the same out his window. He had his hand firmly on his husbands thigh, rubbing his thumb over the soft wool of the uniform pants, Roy with his hand at Ed's neck, fingers lightly teasing over the short hairs at the back of his neck beneath his long ponytail.

Behind them, the twins were occasionally doing minor displays of their abilities, giving the people standing nearby an interesting show, and the guards protecting them a minor heart attack, as both twins were completely in the open, not to mention in what would be defined as danger, but they were causing it to one another. Ed might have been concerned himself, if he didn't know that both Kain and Frank were keeping a close eye on them, as well as the chief guard for the twins, Danny Brosch. Those three alone would visually catch anything in the crowd, the rest of the guards posing the more noticeable threat to the multitudes.

When they reached the city center, the parade stopped, Roy and Ed leaving their car, much to the frustration of Maria Ross and the rest of their guards. They greeted the crowd, while the twins began to spar in earnest.

After shaking a few hands and talking to some of the people, Ed turned to watch his children, Aideen using both gloves on her brother, while he had transformed his arm into a small shield—rather than the usual narrow spike because he was not in a real battle, blocking off her attacks as he fired at her with his glove. Watching him, Ed was impressed. Nicholas was fighting harder than he'd been accustomed to watching his son fight, and though Aideen looked certain to beat him as per the norm, it wasn't going to be a quick or easy fight.

He was honestly glad to see this. Though Aideen didn't talk to her parents as much as they'd have both liked, Ed had been a bit upset to hear that her brother seemed to be still jumpy over little things, probably stemming from the chimera attack. It was common knowledge that Phillip tended to get frightened easily, thanks largely to Dante using him to access the gate. The poor teen still had nightmares from the whole thing. But Nicholas, it seemed, was nearly as bad at the movie, a fact which troubled the younger father, as his son appeared to be putting up a show for his family and the rest of the world's sake.

But fighting his sister, in a relatively comfortable atmosphere, the teen looked somewhat fierce, and Ed was glad to see it. Hopefully he would be able to bring out the same thing if he ever faced another real battle.

Aideen had a thin, lithe body that was plainly obvious as she whipped through the air to dodge one of Nicholas's attacks, legs spinning as she flipped head over heels without touching the ground or pausing her attack. Nicholas, on the other hand figured where she would land and immediately swung his body around to knock her feet out from under her, putting her squarely on the ground, his automail shield transformed into a thin spike pointed at her face.

For the first time in years, she conceded defeat, and Nicholas wore a smile that didn't seem likely to fade for the next decade. Aideen only grinned and looked over her shoulder at the prime minister's grandson.

Nicholas retransformed his hand and held it out of his sister to help her off the ground.

"Fullmetal and Flame!" someone yelled out. At first, Ed thought they were calling the twins that, but as the single shout became a chant, he realized that they expected him and Roy to do the same. He looked over at his husband, seeing a quirked eyebrow and a shrug. It wouldn't be a fair fight and Ed knew it, but they gave it a shot anyway, Ed quickly discarding the coat and removable flap from his uniform Roy putting on his gloves and rubbing the necklace Ed had given him.

The fight began and for just a moment, it was seventeen years ago all over again. Ed forgot that the man he was fighting had a scarred face, was no longer the bastard colonel he'd despised for so many years, and he forgot that he was not a teenager as they fought, all the while, Ed enjoying the sight of his husband's footwork, his lighting-fast reflexes, and even that smug, bastard smile of his. But as Ed licked his lips, thinking of finding a way to get rid of that smirk, he saw Roy falter and silently offered him a truce. He was more than aware that if he'd defeated his husband publicly, it might be a sign of weakness, so instead, he decided to consider this a tie.

Roy looked at him, thankful, and the two shook hands and quickly kissed one another before Ed collected the remaining items of his uniform and climbed back in the car.

"At what point did you become so aware of politics?" Roy asked as he took the seat beside Ed.

"After about the tenth year of being married to you." His hand returned to Roy's leg, Roy's to Ed's neck, both promising much more later that night.

"Love you," Ed sad as he continued to wave.

"Love you too."

"Love you both," Havoc, who'd offered to resume his former duty as chauffer for the parade, joked.

"Just drive," Roy ordered.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher Tringham waved as he stood across the street from his brother and Wrath. He searched both their faces for any sign of kinky games going on at the moment. Thankfully, there were no signs of any strange behavior, so at least Fletcher didn't have to feel any more awkward than usual around them both.

He saw Ed and Roy making their way through the crowds, plenty of escorts around them, Aideen waving as she saw him and coming closer, Nicholas suddenly disappearing.

As Fletcher watched, he soon found Aideen standing beside him. "How was your trip to the west?" she asked.

"Good," he answered, waiting for the inevitable question.

"What's that thing on your back?"

"Something I brought for you. I also have pile of drawing and art supplies in my bag for Nicholas." He gestured to the stringed instrument on his back. "This thing is basically that thing Frank called a guitar."

"For me?"

"Well, I certainly don't have any musical talent."

Aideen laughed, apparently at his one and only attempt at playing her piano in the library, which had been a complete and total disaster.

"So where's Phillip?"

"Somewhere around here. I haven't been able to find him yet."

"I saw your spar. Did you by some chance let Nicholas win?"

"Me?" she asked innocently. Fletcher raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I didn't fight as hard as he did, but he was really vicious today."

She continued to scan the crowd, Fletcher supposed looking for Phillip.

"I also see you are wearing your father's coat."

Aideen tucked the hair behind her left ear. "I finally convinced him to let me." She continued to look through the crowd. "There he is, and he's… not being discrete at all."

"Phillip?"

"Huh? No, I can see Phillip's over at the food area. It is too hard for the guards to monitor me there, so I had to stay here and wait for him to come out. I mean Nicholas. The blond over there trying to suck the face off the Cretan Prime Minister's grandson."

"Grandson?" Fletcher hadn't realized that Nicholas's interests went that way, or rather both ways.

"Yeah. They've been writing one another since we first met. It's a big part of why I let Nicholas win the spar." Aideen shook her head. "I just thought they'd have a little more common sense about figuring out where they stood. If a reporter sees—"

And at those words, there was a commotion in the very alley where Nicholas and the fair-haired teen stood, wrapped in one another's arms. Aideen's love life consisted of innocent pecks with Phillip, but Nicholas honestly didn't need one more shot of him making out with someone on the front cover of every magazine or newspaper.

As Nicholas stepped in front of the pale teen, prepared to face the media that was now swarming, Aideen and Fletcher ran to see what they could do to help, the guards who had been cordoning off the alley without blocking the view of the little hook-up were now trying to block the photographers and reporters, and two voices in unison carried over the crowd.

"Nicholas Maes Mustang!"


	43. Chapter 43

**Ch. 43 **

_Like Father..._

Roy stood talking to the prime minister, praying that the man who'd been so close to the family since the twins' second birthday wouldn't completely turn his back on them and the country because Roy's son couldn't keep his hands or lips to himself. He saw Ed berating the boy, and for a moment felt sorry for his son, having been on his side of a lecture from the shorter man, but then considering the possible international disaster it could have caused, he stopped sympathizing with his son.

"I am so sorry," Roy said.

"You don't have any reason to be sorry, my friend," the prime minister said. "My grandson was as guilty as your son. However, I would enjoy making them both squirm as punishment for their lack of common sense and discretion."

"That sounds very interesting," Roy said, looking back at the quiet young man who seemed the last person to have been caught willingly standing in an alley in the compromising position he'd been found in.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas found himself being pushed into a car by his dad, whose angry glare only held the promise of more suffering to come. Though, he hadn't expected it to come so soon, as he now found himself seated next to his make-out partner's grandfather.

"Um," Nicholas said, feeling his palms growing clammy, "hello, sir."

"Sir? Is that how you address family?" the prime minister said. Nicholas smiled, feeling he could relax a bit. "After all, you are going to be marrying my grandson."

Coal black eyes looked at the man incredulously. "Marry?" He had to be joking.

"Of course. It is customary in Creta that all acts of intimacy are reserved only for the person you intend to marry."

"But, but your grandson has already kissed before. He told me so."

"Never publicly, and certainly not to the extent that you two just did. I'm afraid that if you two didn't proceed, it would be a tarnish on his reputation and look poorly upon my country. I am sure you don't want that." Nicholas knew he had to be kidding, he just had to be.

"Well, of course not. But I'm only fifteen."

"I've seen younger marry, and there is an extensive process in order to prepare you for the marriage itself. You'll be sixteen by then." The round man began nodding his bald head. "Oh his mother will be excited to get to prepare a wedding, and to the son of the Fuhrer of Amestris. I think she'll be pleased, even though she got no say in the actual choice of her son's partner."

Then, there was a tiny glint in the man's eyes. Keeping his face as impassive as his sister's, Nicholas looked over at the man.

"A wedding? But what country would it be held in, and would it matter since we had our kiss here in mine? And what if your grandson and I aren't compatible aside from just that kiss? And would I call you grandfather? Do I have to find a house for us both?" Nicholas watched as the flustered man tried to answer his questions. "And is my father trying to fool your grandson sort of like the way you just tried to do to me?"

"You figured me out."

"Yeah. Believe me, if that was true, my fathers would have warned me. They don't take any chances with me. I don't just fool around with anyone, but I suppose I could be more discreet."

"That would seem just a bit of an understatement, young man."

Nicholas smirked, hearing the man he'd known most of his life chuckling beside him. "It will not cause us much trouble in our country, but you really should be more aware of your surroundings."

The teen rubbed the back of his neck with his automail hand, looking just a bit sheepish. As his car pulled up to the front of his home, he stepped out to glance back at the vehicle holding his papa and the prime minister's grandson, who looked, if it was possible, just a bit paler. Nicholas guessed that the older teen was just a bit more gullible that he was, himself.

0o0o0o0

With only Aideen and Ed left of the "royal family," Frank felt he could relax a bit, as Aideen had Danny Broche commanding the group carefully watching her, and Ed had Maria Ross. Neither of those two would be letting anything happen. At that thought, he went to the food area, seeing Aideen's boyfriend leaving with an armful of food, probably for both of them.

He saw a vendor selling chips, and he saw vinegar nearby. He knew exactly what he was heading for. Now, a fish sandwich would make him feel like he was back at home. He didn't see anything of the like, and decided to settle for the chips—though they were technically called "fries" here, minus the "French" the Americans put on the name, as there were no French to fry anything.

He ordered, and picked up the bottle of vinegar, only to feel an arm wrap around his waist. "Can I have some of those before you ruin them and I won't want any?"

Frank looked over his shoulder at Kain, smirking. "Why do you think I put the vinegar on in the first place?"

He handed the little paper container to his husband, choosing to put the bitter acid into a cup rather than on top of the chips.

"These are very good," Kain said. "you should try them."

"That was the point," Frank said, taking one from his husband and dipping it into the gold-colored liquid.

Kain shuddered. "How can you eat them like that?"

Frank shrugged, finishing the chip, before kissing Kain, earning a grimace.

"I hate vinegar." Frank took Kain's hand in his own, moving back through the crowd, trying to find Wrath, feeling just a bit guilty that he hadn't talked to the young man very much in the last few days. He saw the tall man kissing his boyfriend, and watched as the elder Tringham walked off with a goofy grin of someone who was obviously in love, even though by all reports from Wrath and his friends, he hadn't said it out loud yet.

The moment they were close enough, Frank found a massive hand thumping him on his back, effectively spilling vinegar on his uniform.

"Sorry, Frank," Wrath said, clapping his hands and laying them on the spot that ran down the blue coat, transforming it into a powder and rather smelly gas that quickly evaporated.

"So how are things going between you and your boyfriend?"

"Good," Wrath answered. "And how is married life, as though I have to ask?"

Frank merely smiled.

Two women approached, looking up at Wrath tentatively, making Frank just a bit suspicious. He didn't like the way they were behaving. Everything in him said something was wrong here.

"Are you really the one dating Russell Tringham?"

Both these women seemed to be Russell's type when it came to the so-called "fairer sex." They were thin, very leggy, and had next to nothing in the way of boobs. One, however had straight brown hair, the other curly red.

"Yes," Wrath answered, raising an eyebrow.

"You're the one who took him off the market," the redhead said. "I'm surprised." She smiled, offering an immediate apology. "Not that you're not a very good looking man. It's just that Russell tends to be… what's the word?"

"Aggressive," her friend answered for her.

"Exactly."

"And exactly what's your point that you feel it's necessary to point this out while he's standing talking to friends? We may be close friends, but I have very few desired to hear about his boyfriend's exploits," Frank said, eyes sharply watching these two women.

"We were just curious," the brunette said. "It isn't a crime. I mean, a year ago, Russell walked away from the dating circuit, and we find him with a guy that's about twice his size. It is really out of character for him."

Wrath's jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. Kain looked up at Frank and mouthed the words. "One year?"

Frank subtly shook his head at Russell's stupidity if that was true, since he and Wrath had been seeing one another for far more than that, sleeping together for at least two years.

"And how do you know when he stopped dating?" Wrath asked.

"He and I had a really good time, and then a week later when I tried to get in touch with him, he tells me he's with someone. Then I see you two around together. It just seems out of character for the guy I dated."

"So he dated you a year ago," Wrath said, his entire body tense, "then told you he wanted to stop?"

"That's what I said."

"Well, just so you know, yes, I am with Russell, and what we do in the bedroom certainly isn't any business of someone he considered nothing more than a one night stand." He turned away and looked squarely at Frank and Kain, lowering his voice just a bit. "I'm going to talk to my boyfriend of apparently only the last year."

Lacing his fingers with Kain's, Frank truly didn't envy Russell at the moment.

0o0o0o0

"Anyway," Fletcher said, handing Aideen the guitar, "this has an instruction book with a few songs included. I haven't got a clue how to use it, or what it means by tuning it, but I thought maybe you would know more than I do."

Aideen ran her hand over the black canvas covering before strapping it to her back. "I can't wait to try this out when I get home."

Fletcher smiled at her, glad to see that she seemed happy, though he would have liked to see her smile a little easier.

"You didn't exactly seem shocked by that with your brother."

"Nicholas has no tact when it comes to his little 'romantic encounters.'" She looked at Fletcher, who still said nothing. "Oh, you mean the fact that it was with another man?" she asked.

"That was what surprised me."

"Nicholas has been debating for a while whether his 'interests' were limited to women, and apparently, he and his make-out partner had been writing one another since our visit to Creta, Nicholas explaining that he thought he might be bi, Josef—the prime minister's grandson—that he might be gay." Aideen shrugged. "Guessing from what I saw, I'd say the answer for both was yes."

"I got you fries and a corn dog," Phillip said, as he finally reached them, handing a cardboard carton to Aideen. That arm free, he wrapped it around his girlfriend's shoulders, a bit possessively.

"Thanks," Aideen said, squirming free of Phillip's grasp. "But I'm not going to be able to eat them with your arm around me like that."

"Sorry," he said, eying Fletcher warily.

He stood, talking to the two teenagers, waiting for sight of his brother, even Wrath. With Aideen, the eleven year age difference didn't much matter as she was old for her age, but he became acutely aware of it around Phillip, who talked about music Fletcher couldn't stand because it was far to processed or commercial, who insisted on talking about classes that Fletcher, who had essentially been home-schooled, had no concept of. The most obnoxious was that the teen constantly pointed out things in terms of Fletcher's age, as though he was ancient.

"I don't really remember that, but then again, I was only five then," Phillip remarked to something Fletcher had said. "You were fifteen, sixteen?"

"Yes," he answered, getting very annoyed with this boy. He had just turned twenty-six, and really he didn't need to feel like he was eighty.

"Heavens, that boy has no shame," a voice drifted over the crowd, making Aideen tilt her head just a bit, Fletcher signaling to her boyfriend that it might be necessary to take the carton of half-eaten food from her. "Fifteen and doing things like that in public with people he isn't even dating."

"Aideen," Fletcher hissed, putting a hand on her arm, earning another glare from her obviously jealous boyfriend.

"I mean, if I had a daughter, or son for that matter, I wouldn't let them date him. Could you imagine what that would do to someone's reputation? The boy is a quintessential slut."

Aideen pulled free of Fletcher and had the woman who'd uttered those words pinned against the nearest building quicker than anyone could yell her name to stop her.

"What did you say?" Her eyes narrowed at the woman, and if there was ever a time that Aideen looked as though she could kill, this was it. "Because, what my brother does truly isn't your business. I overheard you say you have no children, well, I'm grateful. People like you really shouldn't procreate to pass down prejudices and ideals that have long since seen their day. My brother is a good, respectable teenager, who is a hell of a lot brighter than anyone else, and much more mature. So if you have issues with the fact that he enjoys the act of kissing someone else, I suggest you shove it up your ass. My brother still holds a good reputation, despite doing what he did today because that is all he would ever do with someone he was still getting to know. So before you go tossing around words like 'slut,' I recommend that you first consider who you're talking about and second make sure their family and friends aren't within earshot to physically knock your holier than thou, righteous ass down a few pegs."

Fletcher put his hands on Aideen's shoulders, the twins' chief guard doing the same at her hands, saying nothing but getting her to relinquish her grip on the woman. As the two made contact, he felt suddenly grateful the teen hadn't used her alchemy to berate this woman, as the power was currently rolling off of the raven-haired alchemist in levels that even Fletcher was able to detect it. As Aideen moved away, the flashbulbs started and the crowd of people around them began to part for someone whose head wasn't entirely visible.

"Damn it, Aideen, we really didn't need _both_ of your pictures in the paper tomorrow." Ed grabbed hold of her arm.

"She called Nicholas a slut. And I didn't hit her, much as I'd have liked to."

Ed's left hand tightened. "Something you must understand ma'am," Ed said, trying to remain calm and dignified, "is that my twins are very defensive of one another. To almost anyone, calling their sibling that name is considered fighting words and in the fact that he is my son, I would love nothing more than to be able to do exactly as my daughter has."

He put an arm around Aideen's shoulders, looking up at Fletcher to relinquish his hold on her and walked back through the crowd.

0o0o0o0

"What the hell, Wrath?" Russell asked as his tall lover all but ran him over.

"How long have we been together?" Violet eyes practically seared through Russell's gaze.

"Um, well, we've been having really good sex for two years."

"But as a couple, because I think my definition and yours differ. You left the dating scene a year ago."

Shit. "We hadn't even made it official. I told you when we started that it wasn't love yet." Russell wouldn't deny it because he couldn't.

"Right," Wrath hissed, "and two years later, you still don't have the balls to say it." The massive man walked away.

"Wrath!" Russell called out after him.

"Stay the hell away from me, Russell. I need time to think this over." Wrath didn't turn around, only stopped for a moment to speak before moving on.

"Wrath," he tried again.

"Russell, another step, another word, and I can't guarantee my actions."

And with that, Wrath moved into the crowd, putting as much distance between himself and Russell as possible, leaving the blond to stand amidst dozens of happy, smiling people when he felt like his chest was being squeezed in a vice. There had always been reasons that Russell Tringham never entered a relationship, but he'd never realized this was one of them.

0o0o0o0

Roy grabbed his son by the shoulders, making him look him in the eyes. "Have you learned anything from this?"

"That I'm not opposed to dating a guy, though I still like boobs?"

"That wasn't what I meant, Nicholas."

"Well, it's what I learned."

Roy cocked his head, looking at his son disapprovingly.

"I know where I chose to do it wasn't smart, but Josef and I had been writing one another about having our first kiss, with another guy, together, to see if there was any interest there. There was, and we got carried away. It was dumb to do like that, but I thought it would be a quick peck and we'd be done with it." Nicholas looked down at his feet. "How much damage control do you think you're going to have to do on this one?"

"Not too much. You are a typical teenager, no matter how much the rest of the world likes to pretend you aren't. Hell, even if this wasn't typical, you're my son, and there's no pretending I wasn't just as bad as you." Roy hugged his son, grateful that the boy was feeling too guilty and too pleased he wasn't being punished to fight against the arms around him because he was "too old" for things like that. "You just need to be more aware of where you are and who you are."

"Yes, Sir," Nicholas said.

"Now, you are going to stay here, with the guards keeping a close eye on you and Josef. The prime minister and I are going to go back to town and see if we can do anything to ease the shock of finding the two of you in a 'passionate moment.'" Roy released his son. "Just promise me not to give the guards a repeat performance."

Nicholas nodded, and Roy patted the boy on the back. Roy was about to leave the house when a young officer ran in. "Fuhrer, Sir, Lieutenant Colonel Elric is on the radio. He wants to talk to you. He said that you're going to need to do damage control for both twins."

Roy nodded, exchanging confused and anxious glances with his son before running out to his car.

0o0o0o0

Ed slid the radio transmitter back into place and put an arm around Aideen's shoulders. "Don't worry. You're papa's old hat with this kind of stuff. It's going to be fine." He watched as she rubbed her temples. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she said. "I've got a little bit of a headache after all that."

"Don't let that woman bother you. You know we'll have to publicly discipline you, and I've already given you a lecture over reacting so violently, but you didn't hit her. I mean, hell, you're my kid. I know better than to expect you to act any differently than I would in that situation. She had no right talking about your brother that way, and doing it with you, Fletcher and Phillip so close by only shows how stupid she is." He smirked a bit. "Besides, it seemed kind of right, seeing the person in that coat going a bit crazed over a stupid comment."

Ed pulled his daughter's head down to his shoulder, kissing the crown of midnight-colored hair. "Even though I wish you'd have asked before altering it, the thing kind of suits you."

Aideen ran her hand over the red fabric with her pale, smooth hands, but didn't pull away or move as she leaned onto Ed's shoulder, and her father had to admit it felt rather nice.

"You know, when I heard there was a fight and you were involved, I panicked at first," he said, leaning his head against hers. "I was ready to rip someone's throat out if they'd hurt you."

"You'd do anything to protect me, wouldn't you?" she said, her voice almost monotone at the question.

"Of course I would." Ed looked over at her, only to see the black hair, her own head unmoving.

"Right," she said, and though Ed waited for more, it never came; they made their car ride back to the mansion in near silence, Aideen laying so still against him, he'd have thought she was sleeping had he not occasionally heard a faint sigh or watched her carefully grooming the red coat of any fuzz.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44 **

**_Love and Irritation _**

****

**_Two Months Later_**

"I cannot believe Elysia picked out these ridiculous dresses," Aideen grumbled as Nicholas laughed at his sister, clad in her teal taffeta bridesmaid dress. "Not a word."

"Never," he said, biting his lip. All he had to do was wear a teal vest, but his sister looked like a walking wad of blueberry taffy, and it was killing Miss Dark and Gloomy. Nicholas bit his tongue, but couldn't stop the laughter from erupting at his sister's expense.

"I hate you," she muttered.

Nicholas chuckled, picking up the ridiculous matching hat. "You shouldn't forget this."

Aideen raised a fist at him as he attempted to put it on her head. With an exaggerated squeak, Nicholas dropped the pillbox hat on the bed and darted from her bedroom. He ran out into the hall and slid down the banister to the foot of the stairs.

"Nicholas, you're getting too old to be doing that," his dad said from the study, which had a straight shot at the bottom of the stairs.

"You did it last week."

"What your dad meant was too big," his papa said.

"Who you calling so short he could ride kiddie rides?"

The teen walked by the study, finding that the arguing on his dad's part had been cut off by his papa kissing the shorter father on the lips.

"I sometimes wonder how I'm going to manage to have a normal relationship if this is my example of functional," Nicholas said, pulling teal gloves from his pocket. "Elysia really did go all out with her colors, didn't she?"

"Thank goodness we're just friends of the bride," his papa said. "No teal or sea foam green to be seen on either of us."

"Have you seen Aideen yet?" Nicholas asked, restraining the need to laugh again.

"Is it as awful as I'm sure she's making it out to be?" His dad pried himself away from the older man, reaching in his suit pocket for his white gloves.

"Pretty much."

"I'm coming down now, and can hear you all talking about me just fine," Aideen called out from above.

"Well, then, come down," Nicholas said. "I won't say another word."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't make any assurances for the other two down there."

"Since when are your parents 'the other two?'" their papa asked.

"Since I know they're going to make fun of me."

"We won't make…" Nicholas turned at the sound of his dad coughing again. "Goddamn son of a bitch," he cursed.

"Dad," Aideen said, coming down the stairs, "did you take your medicine?"

"Yes, mother," he answered, coughing again.

"Don't be too hard on her," their papa said. "She just wants to make sure you take care of yourself. If you had been, a simple cold wouldn't have put you into this kind of state."

"Bite me," Nicholas's dad said between coughs.

As Aideen appeared at the foot of the stairs, the three men caught sight of her, Nicholas holding nothing back as he burst out into laughter, his fathers managing a moment or two longer, earning them all an angry scowl.

0o0o0o0

Roy rather enjoyed the sight of Ed staggering into the car, but as they left it, he was willing to offer the blonde his arm as they walked inside of the dance hall, as he was still wobbling a bit from his cold medication.

"Are you sure you can get through this, Ed?"

"I'll be fine," the small blond said, taking Roy's arm. "Just stay close until the drugs wear off, and nudge me if I start to fall asleep."

"I think I can manage that," Roy said, kissing Ed's forehead, both to show a bit of affection and also to check for a fever. Though Raine said it was better to let her brother-in-law's immune system fight this on its own with things to help the running nose and cough, Roy honestly felt she liked having Ed drugged up like this.

"Still don't understand why, when we have a doctor in the family who could just," Ed clapped his hands. "and make me better, I've got to do things the normal way."

"It could be because someone called her up in the middle of work, insisting she come over to treat him because he was miserable from a stuffy nose. It's no wonder that she won't stop calling you baby since you turn into one every time you get sick."

"Shut up…" Ed started coughing again. "Bastard."

With Aideen and Nicholas going into the dance hall ahead of them, Roy squeezed Ed's arm. "Smile for the cameras," Roy said.

"Fuhrer Mustang, Lieutenant Colonel Elric," one reporter called, "will you be attending the parade in East City?"

"I doubt so," Roy said. "Though we would enjoy traveling there, there are certain matters of state that need taken care of, detaining me in Central, and my husband, if you cannot tell, is a bit under the weather for such a long trip."

Of course, the honest truth was that Roy wanted nothing more than to be a recluse until this entire situation with Dante was over, to hide his family away and go out searching for that monster inside of every single person on the planet while he knew they were somewhere safe. He didn't want to make official engagements, parade them in front of the entire country as though nothing was wrong, but if he didn't to some extent, it would make the twins suspect the true danger, not to mention his own country. So, he was left with no choice but to pretend everything was fine, that he could walk through the streets with his children as he had when they were young for the mentality of his country and for the twins' peace of mind.

"We certainly hope you are soon feeling better, Lieutenant Colonel," the reporter said, the others sounding their agreement.

Ed, with a rather gracious move on his part, thanked them for their concern, even if it was somewhat less than genuine on all but that first reporter's part.

They entered the hall, Roy seeing Havoc leaning against a wall, looking rather drained.

"How are you holding up?"

"I will be glad when this whole mess is over with," he said. "I love Elysia dearly, but this wedding planning is ridiculous. Makes me wish I hadn't given up cigarettes." He looked down at Ed. "Hey, Boss, still under the weather?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Well, he's perfectly drugged up, isn't he?" Havoc said with a chuckle. "Can I have a little of what he's on?"

"Careful of the combination, though," Ed answered with a bit of a smile. "Learned two days ago that when I combine the blue pills with the red ones, I hallucinate. It wasn't pretty."

"It was very entertaining, though." Roy chuckled.

"I thought he was a giant green rabbit. I wasn't sure if I should be entertained by it or scared as hell."

"You didn't mix those pills before coming here, did you?" Havoc asked.

"No. I learned my lesson."

A head poked out of the door at their right. "Honey?" Gracia said. "Can you run and get Fletcher. Half of the flowers are falling out of this bouquet, and I think he'd do better than we could."

"Will do." Havoc saluted his wife with a smile and ran off on this mission.

"Hello Roy, Ed."

Roy leaned to kiss Gracia on the cheek, knowing Ed would have done the same, but felt bad enough being at the church recovering from the cold as he was, not wanting to pass it on.

"Uncle Roy? Uncle Ed?" they heard from within the room. Gracia opened the door and hurried them both inside, shutting it quickly behind them. Roy was in a bit of shock, finding Elysia standing in a beautiful white satin bridal gown, veil trailing behind her, looking like a younger version of Gracia. It seemed so strange that the little girl he'd watched grow up, the daughter of his best friends, was now a grown woman with just a few hints of her father in her.

"Elysia, you look beautiful," Roy said, embracing the young woman tightly, ensuring to be as careful as possible of her dress.

"Prettiest accountant in history," Ed said with a smile.

0o0o0o0

It had been a very nice, if brief ceremony, with Elysia presented by both her mother and her step-father, looking so happy she might burst. Fletcher had never gotten to meet her father, but it startled him just a bit to see the picture of the man in a brief memorial to Mr. Hughes; Elysia's husband could have passed for the man's double, black hair, glasses, some similar features. Yet, they had actually been involved in an office romance that had very little to do with his resemblance to her father, and according to Gracia and Elysia, who had both talked quite a bit while he repaired her bouquet, she had actually been reluctant because of the resemblance. Not to mention the fact that while she worked in Central's finance department he was assistant director and technically her boss.

Still, she looked happy, and honestly, anyone who could manage to make Aideen seem as miserable as she did at the moment just by taking her out of her element, or color scheme at least, was fine as far as Fletcher was concerned. Distaste was at least a change from that ambivalent front she so easily put up.

However, Fletcher could have done without having to attend yet another event with both his brother and Wrath. Russell seemed to be killing himself slowly with regret for being a complete idiot, Wrath holding onto that grudge so tightly, it didn't seem likely it would fade. It didn't seem unnatural to see anger from the mountain of a man. Hell, his name was essentially anger incarnate, but Fletcher had seen him being so kind, so in love with his brother that he had trouble finding Wrath so bitter now.

Not that Fletcher was siding with his brother; Russell had been a moron, but in all of Fletcher's 26 years, he'd never seen his brother care so much about anyone aside from Fletcher himself. While he thought for a long time that Wrath was nothing more than an obsession on his brother's part, one he was only interested in because Wrath had shown no interest initially or because Wrath was willing to fight, he suspected there was something more there.

Regardless of the reasons, Russell had never seemed so in love as he'd been while with Wrath, and without him, he'd never seemed so miserable.

Holding a tiny plate of appetizers, Fletcher mingled, knowing that the odds of talking to the fuhrer or his husband were slim to none, as they were already surrounded by dozens of people, most of whom didn't look as though they knew them at all, and were only trying to schmooze the couple. However, he seemed to have been spotted, as Roy raised his arm and signaled him over, apparently to save them both from more mindless chatter.

Realizing that the two men seemed to want a rescue, Fletcher made his way through the crowd, and slowly parted them to get to his two friends.

"Fletcher," Roy said, a coughing Ed at his side, "I wanted to thank you for your gifts to Aideen and Nicholas." The salt-and-pepper-haired man put his arm around him, moving away from the crowd with the younger Tringham as an excuse to do so.

"Are you being serious or sarcastic?" Fletcher asked, nervous about the guitar more so than the art set.

"Very serious," Ed said, sounding somewhat less foggy than he had earlier. "It's so hard to get her to put down alchemy books, and maybe she's not, but every so often, we hear her playing at it absentmindedly when she's in her room."

"I'm glad to hear that," Fletcher said, genuinely meaning it. "I also meant to ask you, the Central greenhouse is having a display of the plants I brought back from the eastern border. I thought it might be something Aideen would enjoy, especially if I can convince them to let her experiment with a few of them, but I wanted to clear it with you first to ensure there wasn't something else going on and that guards would be available."

"If our daughter wants to go somewhere other than her room or a library, it sounds like a good idea to us," Roy looked down at Ed who nodded.

Fletcher looked over at Ed at that comment, not only to confirm the head bob. "You know, the greenhouse is owned by the museum." Fletcher heard a groan coming from the blond. "So you've already heard from the curator."

"Every damned day," Ed said. "He's furious I let my own daughter have _my_ coat. He wants it in the museum. Like it's the only one I have. There are pieces of the one from when I was twelve and fifteen in it, but really, I made that one after the children were born."

Ed's cheeks slowly turned a shade of pink.

"Your fever must be back," Roy said in a way that was obviously covering for something Fletcher had no desire to discover. He only hoped the coat was involved in something, rather than an active part to save Aideen some creepy embarrassment.

0o0o0o0

Kain knew Frank felt awkward here, so he did his best to stay by his husband's side, to show the people there that they were quite content together and the man that the colonel had married was not the monster who had taken Maes Hughes's position in the military. It should have been obvious by the way the man held Kain with his arms draped over the shorter man's neck, even dancing a few dances, some with Kain, two with Aideen, even one with the bride herself.

By nature, Kain wasn't a fighter, but seeing all these people glaring at his husband made him furious, and perhaps that was why the couple actually had so few fights together. Too much of their time was spent defending Frank to try to get upset with one another. The older man called it putting forth a unified front. Kain just called it marriage; even if they were arguing every day, his sisters had taught him that no matter what, blood is more important than anything, and marriage constituted that as far as Kain was concerned.

"Hey, you two," Al said with a smile, a glass of champagne in his hand. "How's the cat doing?"

"You mean that hyperactive thing you saddled us with?" Frank asked. "DB's fine."

"DB? That's what you named it?" Al asked.

"It's his name for Mephistopheles," Kain said, grateful that that Al had no idea that Mephistopheles was just as nasty a name as DB as far as Frank's world was concerned.

"Yeah," Frank said, putting his hands on either of Kain's shoulders as he continued to stand behind him. "Damned Bastard."

"You call your cat that?" Al said in complete shock.

"Yes," Frank said. "That ruddy thing takes pleasure in scaring me. It's always hopping on top of me just as I'm about to go to sleep. Or better yet, he sleeps on top of my face. I think he's trying to suffocate me."

"Ignore him," Kain said. "He likes the cat, he just has to find something to bitch about, and right now it's Mephistopheles."

"So how is your growing brood?" Frank asked.

"Hannah and Jacob are fitting in just fine with the other children." Al looked back at the two newest Elrics, a pair of siblings who were about to be separated as everyone wanted the younger brother, who was only five, but had little interest in the older sister, who was eleven. "Sasha had to take a little adjusting to no longer being the oldest girl, since Hannah is a month older, but really, everything's going well." Al ran his hand through his recently cropped hair. It wasn't short by military standards, but by Elric ones, the hair was a definite deviation. "Speaking of adoption, how are things going on your end?"

"We've all but given up. Our lives aren't exactly simple, and finding the right kid to understand it all, well, that isn't going to ever be easy."

Kain just nodded in agreement.

"Don't give up entirely," Al said with a smile, glancing back at his children. "You never know when the right one or ones will find you."

0o0o0o0

Wrath stood, arms folded against his chest, leaning against the wall. He hated being in the same room as Russell, wanting nothing more than to strangle the blond. As he glared at a set of grey-green eyes that looked at him pleadingly from across the room, another blond stepped up between their locked eyes.

"Are you going to stand here and pout all night? I swear, this is worse than when you didn't talk."

Wrath looked down at Nicholas, who was smirking up at him, oozing that charm he had to have inherited from his papa.

"Come on, at least dance a little." Nicholas glanced over at Russell. "I'll even let you lead, though since I've never danced with another guy, I may be on your feet more than the dancefloor."

Wrath grinned and rolled his eyes. "Fine, no reason I have to be miserable just because I'm trying to make him miserable."

"Exactly." The song was slow, and Wrath found himself doing his best to convince Nicholas's body that he wasn't leading this dance, though more than once, they stopped moving on the floor to laugh at the younger man's inability to follow any sort of direction.

"So, since you still show more interest in women, I'm guessing you're doing this to help me out."

"Well, Wrath, I didn't realize you had any interest in me." That smug smile reappeared. "But, yeah, I figured if I'm a 'quintessential slut,' then I should make your boyfriend—"

"Ex-boyfriend," Wrath corrected.

"Boyfriend," Nicholas re-corrected, "very jealous."

"He'll only think I'm a pervert for hitting on a teenager."

"You're going for a younger man. Besides, I'm fifteen, you're only eleven years older than me, and excluding the time you were behind the gate, we're practically the same age." Finally, Nicholas seemed to be getting the hang of following Wrath's lead. "You're leaving the old man for me, young, energetic, plenty of stamina." Nicholas raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Talk like that to other people, you're going to get yourself in trouble."

With another flirtatious grin, Nicholas added, "Talk like that to you much longer, I think I'm going to get the both of us in trouble." With a quick jerk of his head, he gestured to Russell who seemed to be silently stewing in anger.

0o0o0o0

Phillip was nervous, standing on the balcony, black suit coat draped over his arm, sea foam green gloves in his pocket. He had wished he'd been paired up with Aideen in the bridal party, but the twins held the position of maid of honor—Elysia's best friend was matron—and first usher, leaving him to walk one of Elysia's classmates down the aisle, but at least he'd been in the party with Aideen. He could hear her coming as she stepped outside, the ruffling of the taffeta she seemed to despise with every fiber of her being signaling her exit from the dance hall.

"You wanted to talk, Phillip?" Aideen asked, putting her gloved hand over his on the railing.

"Yes." He smiled at her. "You know that in a month I'll qualify to start the military academy." She nodded, but moved her hand. "Well, I thought that maybe we…"

"Should break up?" she asked, calm as ever, not sounding the least bit shaken by that idea, though for Phillip, it hurt just to hear it from her lips.

"No, not at all," Phillip answered. "I just thought if I'm going to be away, we might need to make some form of commitment to one another."

"Aside from being boyfriend and girlfriend." It wasn't a question, but was another cool statement.

"Well, yes," Phillip said. "I mean, some call it going steady, or they give a promise ring."

"So, while you're away at the academy, you want me to commit only to you." Her full lips tightened into a thin line. "At fifteen, you expect me to devote myself completely to you and you alone. Phillip, that is a lot to ask, and it isn't fair to either of us." She leaned on the railing, hands together, thumb of her right hand rubbing the palm of her left. "It isn't fair that I let us stay together anyway."

"What do you mean?" Phillip asked, heart in his throat, anger flashing just a moment at the only man Aideen ever talked about with frequency that wasn't family.

"I mean, you and I have always been close, but I just wonder why you and Nicholas feel close in such a similar way."

Phillip knew this didn't mean she had any designs on her brother, but that he, himself, was like family. "Are you sure?"

She shook her head.

"Then, can you take time to think about it? I care for you a lot, Aideen," he covered her hands with his. "I'd hope that once I'm done with the academy, that you and I—" He looked into her eyes, seeing affection there, wanting to see more, thinking certainly, there was more there. "When you have an answer, please tell me."

0o0o0o0

Ed grabbed Nicholas's coat and as he and Roy walked through the hall.

"What are you doing?" his husband asked him.

"Something I really should have done a while ago." Ed finally let go of Roy's arm, still feeling a bit dizzy, but overall, much better than he had felt for the last few days. He knew he was followed as he made his way upstairs, his uneven footsteps followed by the soft padding of his husband's stocking feet. "I'm going to need your help, and no wisecracks about it."

"You're much more coherent," Roy said from behind him.

"I just took my medicine. I've got an hour before I'm hazy again." With that, Ed began to cough once again. They made their way to the bedroom, Ed opening up the closet and pointing to a rather large box at the top. "Can you get that down for me?"

He could almost see Roy visibly biting his tongue as he simply nodded that he would help. Ed was coming down from the pleasant side-effects of the blue cold pills and was in no mood for playful banter about his height. A single short joke would have ended in a full-out battle between his husband and himself.

"Thank you," he said as Roy guided it to the floor. Opening the flaps at the top, Roy watching all the while in interest, Ed began pulling out dozens of coats, or what remained of them.

"I always thought you kept the same one," Roy said.

Ed shook his head. "I always integrated a part of the old ones, but I was too rough on the things. They'd have been a mass of patches if I kept the same one." He looked up at Roy strangely. "You've never looked in this after all these years?"

"No. It was yours, and didn't seem to be anything life-threatening."

"Oh." Ed looked away from his husband.

"It's okay, Ed," Roy said, sitting on the foot of the bed. "I already know you ransacked everything of mine, most of it before we were even married."

Ed shrugged as he pulled out the smallest of the coats, it was missing part of its bottom, and both of the sleeves, but this was the original, even if it was nothing but scrap. And he knew there was just enough fabric to cover the inside of his son's coat. Kneeling on the floor, with a quick clap of his hands, he removed the lining and replaced it with the red coat, the flamel centered at the back. He rooted through the box a bit more, finding the one with the most wear to it. He knew he couldn't make this one look perfectly new, as he'd done for the one now lining his son's coat, but he would make it complete. He'd taken the sleeves off of this one to incorporate into the material for Aideen's, just as he'd always done. Pulling out a few scraps of the red material left from rags that could no longer be called his red coats, he alchemized a coat just a bit too short for him, but perfect for the fifteen-year old version of himself. It would be a bit tight over his broader shoulders, yet it would likely still fit.

"What's that ratty thing for?" Roy asked.

"The museum. I'm not listening to them any more. They can have the one I wore when I was still called the 'People's Alchemist.'"

"You still are," Roy said as Ed stood, the fair hands reaching out to Ed.

"They call me the 'Fuhrer's Alchemist' now." Ed wrapped his arms around Roy's head. "I don't mind, since I know the term isn't derogatory."

"It just says you're mine."

"Pretty much." Ed looked down at Roy. "You know, we never did get to fool around while I was wearing one of those coats. The one Aideen has always hit the floor before we did anything."

"Thank goodness," Roy said, moving Ed's arms to look up at him. "I don't think I could have agreed to her having the coat if it hadn't."

"We really should break in the one I'm going to give the museum. It can be a bit of history that only you and I know."

"Well not tonight," Roy said. "You're still too sick."

"Just be glad you haven't caught it yet," Ed said, brows knitting together. "Exactly why haven't you? You certainly haven't stopped from kissing me or holding me since I caught this bug. So, if you're not sick, then you got help that I didn't. Raine told me I needed to let my immune system fight this one out because it would be weak if it didn't."

"What can I say? I'm her baby brother and the fuhrer. She wasn't going to let me get a nasty cold."

"You suck," Ed said with a glare.

"Only when you ask."

0o0o0o0

Russell cornered Wrath as he was leaving the bathroom. "A teenager?" Russell asked. "That's where you've sunk to?"

"Right, because dating a breastless twig of a woman while you and I are pounding one another into the mattress each night is so much better."

"I told you from day one that it wasn't a relationship."

"But you changed your mind after a year?"

"You told me you loved me." Those steely green eyes bore into Wrath's violet. "No one, _no one_, told me that and meant it before except Fletcher, and I guarantee he didn't say it the way you did."

"Oh, so you felt sorry for me and decided it might hurt me if you kept screwing around on the side?"

"Three times I _tried_ to be with someone else in that first year. Three damned times, and not once could I manage anything without thinking of you, and I figured what the hell, if I'm thinking about him, I should be with him. So yes, I dated, and I tried, but I couldn't, still can't, without you because somewhere long before you told me, I realized I loved you too. I just didn't have the balls to say it."

"But that woman said you—"

"She was one of the three and she got pissed because I left her in the middle of the night to be with you."

"This doesn't change anything," Wrath said.

"I didn't expect it would," Russell answered, "but at least you know my side and are listening to me. We started this whole thing out ass backwards because I've never really had a relationship, so maybe we can give it a try, starting at the beginning, or are you still sick every time you see my face?" Russell found his voice level rising.

"Fine," Wrath said just a bit louder than Russell.

"Then we'll have a date on Friday." Russell was all but yelling.

"Fine." Again, Wrath was louder still.

"See you then!" Russell walked to the end of the hall where Fletcher was standing.

"Well, that was entertaining," he said.

"Bite me, Fletcher," he said to his brother.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45 **

Nearly getting her head taken off by a low-hanging vine, Dante approached the eastern exhibit in the Central Zoo.

"Hello again, Mr. Tucker." Dante saw him react as he always did when she addressed him that way. For whatever reason, it disturbed him, and she rather enjoyed it.

"Things worked exactly as you said they would."

"You doubted me," she said, patting the head of a very obedient chimera. "I told you the customs soldiers would have no idea how to tell the difference between _real_ eastern animals and our little creatures here. I've been around this military often enough to know where some of its most idiotic members operate." As another chimera nuzzled against her hip, Dante scratched it behind the ear. "And you seem to have corrected our problem with them from before."

"I developed methods to get them to recognize you and your voice." Tucker seemed to see a few of the chimeras sniffing at that doll of his daughter he'd made. "It meant including a few more loyal breeds into the mixture, and will ultimately reduce their viciousness." Dante looked at him angrily. "But they are still quite violent. I have been able to test that as well."

Ignoring the chimera who had made her small army, Dante knelt down, looking one of the cat-things in the eyes. "Will you kill for your master?" The creature looked at her with such unwavering obedience, there was little doubt that it would, and Dante could hardly contain her smile.

She stood, this time, addressing Tucker. "Very well, I will give you my research from Pride. It will take you some time to learn, but by then, I think I'll have gotten to use my little ones at least once."

Tucker looked pleased, as well he should. Dante had been holding this over his head for so long, if he hadn't truly wanted the research she offered, he would have given up long ago. "Now, let's get them to their new home. I can guarantee you this one won't be found."

As the two herded the group of chimeras, Dante with a black hooded cloak over her head to prevent her from being recognized, Tucker looked at her.

"Why do you want them back in Central now?"

At first, Dante wanted to tell the thing it was none of his business, but decided that if she seemed to be showing some sign of faith in him he would continue to serve her, and more importantly, not reveal her identity. "Because the other side is losing patience. They're trying with less and less frequency to get to our side. I've heard the reports from the underground city."

"You're going to let them through soon, then."

"Only long enough to get their technology and gain control of the Gate, yes. I am more than human," she said as she guided the chimeras through a series of tunnels she had created that led several feet below the fuhrer's home. "I have been protecting them for years, taking control of chimeras, preventing them from finding out about the philosopher's stone, preventing them from using it if they create it. I am humanity's greatest protector, and they think me a villain for it."

Tucker said nothing, but the expression seemed to say that while she had his loyalty, he thought no more of Dante than the humans did. It didn't matter. Ultimately, he was only a tool, a means to an end.

0o0o0o0

Phillip tried to joke with Nicholas as he waited for Aideen to come downstairs, but he was honestly dreading her answer. She hadn't exactly sounded enthusiastic that night of Elysia's wedding, and he wondered if he'd pressured her not to give him an answer that night. He had spoken to his father about this, wondering if maybe because he wasn't an Armstrong by blood if he simply didn't have the resilience his father did.

To be perfectly honest, he cared for Aideen, possibly even loved her, if everything he read on the feeling was right. The idea that she might only consider him a brother was sickening.

When he pictured his life into adulthood, he'd always planned she'd be there by his side, probably leading him by the hand a few times, knowing his still-girlfriend. He smiled inwardly and outwardly at that thought.

"Hey, Phillip, you still with me?" Nicholas asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Huh?" Phillip chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Nicholas paused a moment. "Phillip, I know you're going to be gone for a while, and I know why you're really here fidgeting in that chair, but no matter how this conversation goes with Aideen, we'll still manage to be friends, right?"

"Sure," Phillip answered. Honestly, if Aideen decided she wanted to break things off, then he'd at least hope their time apart would do them both some good. He had considered the answer he got from her would not be a positive one, and in light of that, felt he could be mature.

And there was the added bonus that he was soon to be joining the military academy, giving him the opportunity to nurse his wounded pride if he was rejected.

He watched with nervousness as a dark figure leaned her head into the room. "Phillip," she said. "Will you come into the library with me?"

He stood, running a hand through his mass of brown curls, finding Nicholas giving him a sympathetic smile as he left.

0o0o0o0

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Ed yelled out as his latest attempt at a way to detect Dante turned into the greatest smoke bomb he'd ever seen, forcing him and Al out of the lab coughing. "Damn it. I just started breathing normally and this happens!"

"I warned you about crossing those two symbols."

"Well, it's never been done."

"Maybe, brother, it was for a good reason."

Ed scowled at Al with his ridiculously cut hair and freakish over-six-foot-height.

"Well, now we know," Ed replied back a bit snottily.

"And _you're_ the older brother," Al said with a roll of his eyes.

Ed smacked him in the stomach, glancing up at the library window, seeing Phillip looking at something, though more likely someone, out of Ed's view. "Damn," he muttered. "It's probably better this happened. She might need me after this."

"Brother?"

"Aideen's dumping Phillip."

"Dumping him?" Al looked at Ed curiously. "They seem happy together."

"He's going away to the military academy. I know he'd like to continue dating Aideen, but she thinks she's too young to be in that kind of a committed relationship." He looked back at his brother. "Her words, not mine, though I agree with her."

"Right," Al said, sarcastically, "because being with someone in a serious relationship when you're still a teenager is so out of character for our family."

Ed shared a smile with Al, waiting for the inevitable.

"Small consolation is that she's going to the greenhouse with Fletcher in two hours. If she isn't too crushed by having to do this, I think it could be good for her. She really does enjoy plants, and she's always been comfortable around Fletcher, from the time she was little." He hadn't intended for his tone to come out as remorseful as it had, but there was no taking it back, just like there was no pretending that Al had caught it.

Ed found a long arm wrapped around his shoulders. "She'll come around to the rest of the family eventually. Teenagers are that way."

"How would you know? Robert's still twelve, and he's your oldest."

"I had this brother once, who used to keep all his feelings to himself unless I beat them out of him, and he ran around wearing nothing but black and a red coat."

Ed wrapped his own arm around Al's back, giving him a hard squeeze before they saw Phillip leaving the library, looking very crushed.

"I'll clean out the lab. Nicholas is probably talking to Phillip now, so why don't you go to her?"

Ed nodded, walking up the steps of the porch, finding Nicholas comforting Phillip without making it obvious he was trying to comfort him, the older boy looking like he was trying not to tear up and failing miserably.

"Aideen?" he said, as he went in the library, finding his daughter, clad in her black garb. "Are you okay?"

As she turned, he expected to see remorse or sadness on her face, but instead, there was nothing. She was as unreadable as ever.

"I'm fine. It needed to be done."

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it any easier." He stepped a bit closer. "He was your first boyfriend."

"I know, but he's going away and I'm too young." She tried to walk by Ed, who chose to incorporate the technique Al had used on him so many times before, using a bit of force to get something out of her. He grabbed her by both her arms, spinning her to look him in the face. Initially, she seemed surprised, even put-out that he was actually stopping her.

"Aideen, I know this hurts you, so don't try to pretend it doesn't." He held onto her for several moments, awaiting the inevitable. "I know you didn't want to have to do that, don't try to brush it off as nothing." Then the inevitable happened: her mask cracked and she held her father so closely, he had to tilt his chin to rest it on her shoulder.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas had known what Aideen's answer would be, and had already arranged for a number of his and Nicholas's male friends to go out and have a "guy's night out." He'd even asked Danny to make sure that it would only be male guards with him that night. The teen was prepared for a night of female bashing, and he doubted he'd manage to do so comfortably with women around. He liked and feared them too much to do it to their faces, and at the moment, his friend needed to be told he was better off without a crazy, moody woman in his life, better off single to explore the field.

It was one of those things the guys in Nicholas's group of friends had always done. The single ones remind the dumpee how great it is to be single, the ones in relationships shared their worst stories, all in an attempt to make the one who felt like his heart had been crushed. It was something that none of their girlfriends, future girlfriends (or boyfriends if Nicholas ever managed to settle down either way) should ever hear. Without a doubt if any potential dates ever heard those speeches of comfort they tried to give one another, it would have lead to the tight group of friends remaining single for life.

Nicholas glanced in the library, a little surprised to see his sister being held by their dad and her not fighting it. She'd been upset, but he didn't think that much over having to break up with Phillip. As a matter fact, she'd seemed calm going into the whole thing, not calm, pleased possibly? Then again, Phillip had asked a lot of her. The mere thought of having to be in a long term anything scared him more than he wanted to admit. It could have been mere relief.

Nicholas walked into the kitchen, picking up the phone and telling the operator to connect him to Victor.

"Well, did she do it?"

"Yes."

"Damn, that sucks. For both of them." There was a pause. "Phillip still there?"

"No. He just left. I say we bombard him at his house and drag him out with us."

"Sounds good. In two hours? Think that will give him enough time to lick his wounds before we all go out and act like idiots?"

"I think so," Nicholas said. Phillip was his best friend, but Victor, despite his somewhat homophobic ways had remained close to Nicholas even after he more or less proclaimed to the world he was bi, something some of Nicholas's other friends had only half-heartedly done, claiming that with the realization that Nicholas could be interested in them it made things "different." They all said they didn't mind that he had an interest in men, but that none of them really wanted him interested in _them_.

"All right then," Victor said. "See you in two hours."

Nicholas told him goodbye, then hung up the phone, making his way to the library to find his sister had already gone, probably to get ready for her visit to the greenhouse. Still, he couldn't have missed her by much, so he quickly made his way upstairs to the first room on the right, knocking first before coming in to see how she was holding up.

"Aideen?"

She turned, giving him a sort of sad smile, it was tiny, but it was there.

"You okay?"

The expression on the usually expressionless face didn't fade as she nodded. He made his way to her, wrapping his arms around her, seeing that familiar flicker of guilt the moment his left arm made contact with her back. For once, she actually let him hug her, no fighting, no struggling.

0o0o0o0

Wrath looked doubtingly at the restaurant Russell had picked out. "You have to be kidding."

"Why not?"

"Cretan cuisine. I don't even speak Cretan. I won't have a clue what I'm ordering, and neither will you."

"I know enough." Russell opened the door for Wrath, who only scowled at him as he passed through. "You know, we're on a date, so you could at least be pleasant."

"You haven't earned pleasant, yet, Russell."

"Civil?"

"We'll see."

A fair-skinned woman smiled at Russell, who apparently had made reservations rather than just dragging Wrath here, something out of character for past experiences with the blond. The woman led them to a table on the second floor of the restaurant in a secluded booth with a candle offering very little additional light to the dimly lit room. Russell took the seat closest, Wrath moving to the other side, thanking the waitress as she prepared to give them menus.

To the dark-haired man's surprise, Russell actually did know a few Cretan phrases and ordered for them both. Wrath wasn't quite sure whether to be pissed that the man was assuming he knew what Wrath would want or impressed he actually knew how to do something aside from study alchemic texts all day.

"Listen," Russell said, folding his hands and laying them on the tabletop. "I know I was an ass. I do." He did a quick toss of his hair to get that stray chunk out of his eyes so he could look up at Wrath. "But I meant what I said."

"Which part?" Wrath asked, leaning against the wall and turning his body sideways in the booth. He was pretty sure he knew what part, but making Russell squirm was always nice, and if he'd say those words again, well, maybe Wrath could manage civil for the night.

"That I love you, you asshole. You knew what I meant."

"Asshole?" Wrath asked. "Is that a new term of endearment?" He began toying with the napkin in front of him. "What happened to civil?"

"I'd like to ask the same thing."

The waitress brought a bottle of wine and two glasses of water.

"Trying to get me liquored up?" Wrath asked as the waitress poured the wine.

With a loud groan of frustration, Russell took his glass from the woman and drank much too fast to actually enjoy what he was drinking.

They sat in relative silence, save for when Wrath could come up with a smart aleck remark. Finally, Russell stood from the table, making no excuses for his sudden move.

"Giving up on it so soon?" Wrath asked.

"I have to pee, if you want the details, damn it. And personally, I think the urinal would keep me better company." Still turned in the booth, Wrath soon found himself beneath Russell, not entirely loving the position considering the fiery anger in the man's eyes. "I'm trying to repair this, fix what I did, but damn it, you aren't making it easy. I screwed up. Fine! But you know, I never told you we were in a relationship, and aside from a few absolutely miserable dates, I didn't cheat on you."

"If they were so damned miserable, why'd you keep going on them?" Wrath looked up at the grey-green eyes coolly. "If you hated those women, why keep tormenting yourself?"

"Because you scared me," Russell said, grabbing Wrath's jaw in his hand, while Wrath moved his own hands to Russell's sides, prepared to push him away. "You had me feeling things I never had before and had me giving up my control. I don't know if you've noticed over the years, but I pride myself on my control and dominance in a situation. Yet, I willingly gave that up to you, and I didn't know why." Then, in barely a whisper, he said, "I still don't know why."

At those last words, Russell brought their mouths together. His lips covering Wrath's, his body nothing more than a blanket for the larger one beneath it. Wrath's brain tried to tell him to push the man away, to get him the hell off, but his arms weren't listening. As a matter of fact, they were wrapping themselves around the smaller chest and back and crushing them together.

The food came, but the two hardly noticed, barely acknowledging the waitress when she cleared her throat to get their attention. And when Russell finally went to the bathroom—apparently he hadn't been lying—it took every ounce of self control not to follow after him.

When he happened to glance Russell at the door, looking at him as though trying to signal him for something, Wrath realized self control was seriously overrated as he threw his napkin down and rose from the table. Russell might not have been forgiven, but that wasn't going to make Wrath abstain from a little fun while he could get it.

0o0o0o0

Walking through the greenhouse and conservatory of the museum, Aideen by his side, Fletcher had to smile. Though she tried very hard to keep that look of cold disinterest on her face, he'd already seen it crack several times since he'd picked her up at her home. She'd told him on the phone she still wanted to go, though she'd just broken up with her boyfriend, and when she'd climbed in the car, there was a definite melancholy, and she remained somewhat distant as they drove, her eyes looking out the window, eyes seeming to only partially follow what was passing by.

He'd turned up the radio, unable to take the sad silence, and after a few songs, an upbeat duet came on, one that Fletcher had always liked, but drove Russell nuts—so naturally, as a little brother, he'd learned every word and sang it at home whenever the opportunity presented itself. Of course, sitting in the car with Aideen, he wasn't about to display more musical talents where he'd felt certain were as lacking as his piano skills. Mouthing the words as he turned down off of Main Street, he happened to notice he wasn't the only one in the vehicle who knew each and every one.

Taking the risk that with a tone-deaf brother and papa, the teen had probably heard worse, he had actually started to sing, much to Aideen's obvious shock, and after making what he was certain was a fool of himself, he had actually gotten her to join in, even if it was a bit quietly, her face just a bit closer to the color of her coat than when they'd started.

Now, as he stood watching her look over the exhibit he'd organized, the plant's he'd studied and gathered, he couldn't help but feel pride. There were very few things that impressed the teen, but his research and the plants he'd discovered near the eastern border seemed to be one of them.

"Watch this," he said, pointing to a little mouse that was getting close to one of the larger plants. "If your stomach can take it."

"What do you me—" At those words, the mouse was stuck on what had appeared to be an open leaf, but was now slowly closing around the little animal. "The poor mouse!" And then Fletcher waited for a moment. "But what a cool plant. And you found this thing?"

"Mm-hmm. Got to name it, and quite a few of the others here too. This one has seven ways to trap a victim, so this is the 'Seven Deadly Sins.' I wasn't specific about naming each method, but one of my fellow researchers called what you just saw wrath."

She nodded. He pointed out a silver-barked tree that grew bluish-colored pears. "This one, the other researcher named, so blame him, but it's a Fullmetal tree with Mustang pears."

"I'm sure my fathers will appreciate it," she said with a bit of sarcasm in her voice.

"Now this plant," he said, pulling out a tiny scrap of paper and placing on the stem, making the plant, with no harm to itself, release a single flower, which he handed to Aideen. "This flower has a nice, long specific name that these all do. But I gave it the name that's stuck." He saw her looking at a plaque near the railing as she tucked the red and gold blossom into her hair.

"Little Flame?" she asked, looking up at him, that pink tint in her cheeks. Many people didn't have a clue what their name meant, but Fletcher had seriously doubt she didn't, since she and Nicholas had been named specifically in ways to ensure it appeased both fathers.

"It seemed appropriate. There's another one in there. I don't know if you can see it," he said, pointing toward the back, far from where the normal pathways led, "but that gold one that keeps closing up any time something tries to land on it. That one's the 'Gold Joker.'"

"Nicholas."

Fletcher shrugged with a smile. He was about to point out a very delicate variant of an orchid when screams could be heard coming from the zoo just next door and something about the fuhrer's daughter that she was being hurt. He looked over at a very unharmed Aideen, taking her by the hand.

"I know a shortcut into the zoo. We can see what's wrong from there without being hurt if something is going on." She nodded and followed him through the awkward path into the plants that grew only under heavy forest-cover with very little exposure to light. It grew darker and harder to see, and he glanced back at Aideen, who seemed to be managing well enough over the vines and uneven ground.

"Fletcher," she said, "watch your head." At that, a large vine, hanging far too low in the walkway appeared suddenly in front of him.

"Are you sure you're not part cat?" he asked. "I nearly missed that in this dim light. I'd have probably hanged myself." She ducked just as he had as they entered the zoo, seeing the screaming people below, all panicked over something from one of the animal displays.

"Get her out of there!" someone yelled.

"It's the fuhrer's daughter. I'm sure of it!" another cried.

Realizing he was still holding tightly to Aideen's hand, Fletcher released it, signaling to the guards who, until that moment, had blended into the background to watch her while he checked to see what it was.

He looked down in the pit where the tigers were, a bright red coat, short black hair being mauled by one of the large cats.

Eventually the two animals were coaxed back into their dens and through those, the cages where they were kept during cleaning of the area. One zoologist moved to the red-coated thing, gingerly turning it over to reveal a near-perfect copy of the fuhrer's daughter, its body and face scratched, revealing not blood, but a red substance, nonetheless.

Fletcher heard a gasp to his right, seeing that Aideen, in classic form, had moved away from the guards enough to look. He grabbed hold of her arm and guided her beside him, holding her rigid body tightly, one hand at her head, the other at her back, doing his best to obscure what was essentially a doll in her own image gashed into near shreds, but unfortunately, not enough to keep it from being recognizable.

"It's okay, Aideen. I'm here."


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46 **

_**Broken Doll**_

Russell had Wrath pinned against the cold tile in one of the stalls. His hands holding the larger ones against the wall, his mouth assaulting the skin around the larger man's neck.

"You know," Wrath whispered, "you act as though I never let you do this." Russell smiled as he heard the massive man gasp. "I give you your fair share of…." There was a very pleased moan. "control."

"That wasn't the control I meant," Russell said as his hands left Wrath's to unfasten the younger man's pants. "I date a woman a couple of times and can end it, no attachments, no guilt." Russell looked up at those remarkable amethyst eyes. "But you…" He rested his forehead against Wrath's chest, not knowing what more to say. "You are… different."

Very quickly, the older man freed Wrath's member from his pants, watching in pleasure as the braided head flew back, a stifled groan escaping his throat. Russell knew he could easily get Wrath to do his bidding in this state, but this wasn't about his own pleasure. It was about the man he couldn't seem to shake. Languidly, Russell slid down the long, broad body, hands trailing from chest down to groin as he began to wrap his mouth around the still-impressive member in front of him. Two large hands found their way to Russell's bound hair. The blond knew by the time he was done it would be a complete mess, but a rather large portion of him simply didn't care, no more than he cared that his jaw would ache or he was leaving himself completely hard and wanting.

He moved his hands, knowing with no uncertainty he would be unable to take the entire length. He'd tried in the past. Deep throating in general had never been a forte, and Wrath was downright impossible for him.

So, while he tormented the large man by sucking the head of that massive member like a lollipop, one hand was slowly pumping the firm rod, the other massaging the man's testicles, lightly squeezing, rolling them, enjoying the pleased sounds coming from the man tightly gripping at his hair.

"Oh, Russell," Wrath moaned, "how was I mad enough… mmmm… not to let you, ah, do this?"

Russell made a noise similar to "I don't know" against the head of the man's cock, knowing fully well what it would do to the man as thick fingers tightened in his blond hair, and he exclaimed something that was not quite a howl. Russell had checked the walls and doors before signaling Wrath to come back, knowing he wouldn't need to warn the man to be quiet, as all were more than thick enough to keep out his vocal lover's sounds of passion.

It didn't take long before Russell found himself trying to swallow his lover's release, and more importantly, not get his dark shirt covered in it. Managing it, except for a few stray drops that landed on his collar, Russell watched as Wrath lost the strength in his legs, and slid down the white tile a few inches, the wall now the only thing keeping him upright.

He stood back up, finding a pair of arms wrapping around him tightly, his face now mashed against a very hard chest.

There was a rapid knocking on the door.

0o0o0o0

"I'm the fuhrer, damn it, let me through!" Roy pushed through the crowd of people, knowing as fuhrer he was supposed to go to his troops and assess the situation, but at the moment, the situation was seated on a bench, Fletcher Tringham holding her face in one hand and pushing her black hair behind her ear, placing a strange flower that had just landed on her lap there with it. All the while, Aideen stared blankly through Fletcher, her face showing absolutely nothing. Roy wasn't even entirely certain she knew he was even there.

"Aideen," Roy said, kneeling in front of the bench, not thinking about knees and arthritis. He saw Fletcher relinquishing his hold on the pale face, allowing Roy to move over to grab her shoulders, looking her in the eyes, finding absolutely no recognition there. "Aideen, I'm here. Papa's here." He gathered her into his arms and held her as tightly as he could.

There was still no response from her, as though she'd shut down.

"Furher, sir…" a voice said behind him. "Roy?"

"Frank, um, Lieutenant Colonel Archer," Fletcher said.

"Major?" Frank said. "The colonel's going to need to question you about what happened." He put a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Fuhrer, sir, I'm going to need to analyze the item in question."

Roy looked up at Frank out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really want that thing out of the tiger pit, not if this was what it did to his usually strong daughter.

"Papa?" her voice croaked, as though strained to speak. Roy slowly lessened his intense hold on her until he was able to look her in the eyes. He expected to see fear, but at first, received only a continuation of that blank expression to be followed by a suddenly angry scowl. She wriggled out of his grip and stood up, a flower falling from her hair and onto the ground.

"Aideen?"

"I would like to see this thing." Her words were calm, steady.

"I think it might be a bit much for you," Frank said, putting a hand on the shoulder of the red coat.

She only looked up at him. "It is made to look like me, so why hide it from me?"

"Aideen," Frank said, "it isn't exactly pretty. The tigers seem to have had a hold of it for a few hours."

"So it looks like me and it is scratched up. Is there more I need to know?"

"She's not going to back down." Roy could tell that easily enough from the look in her eyes. He might have compared it to any of her parents when they were angry, but there was still more to it. She was determined, angry, curious… he couldn't begin to pinpoint it all in those hazel eyes.

"Lieutenant Colonel Archer, sir," one of the younger men yelled out. "The zoologists have brought the item from the pit."

Before a word or a gesture could be made to signal to Aideen that she could go ahead and see, she was already heading through the crowd, just daring anyone to stop her, frightening them all with a single icy look from her usually fiery eyes. Roy pushed himself to his feet, moving to follow her, knowing full well he should have been leading her, rather than the other way around. Yet, that didn't seem to be changing, as she was considerably faster than he was with a bit of a headstart.

As the hardened military officers and witnesses who had yet been questioned parted, looking at her in fear, her lithe frame easily twisting and sliding itself among the crowd of people, who moved even more swiftly as he came behind her toward the red-coated thing near the pit.

"Aideen," Roy said, putting a hand on her shoulder, only to have it shrugged away.

"This is very well done," she said. "Done with alchemy, I would be almost certain."

"Aideen?"

"It's some kind of composite," she said, kneeling beside the thing. "A softer material over a harder red. The clothing's very close to my own, and the details of the face are too. Someone put a great deal of work into this."

"The question is, why?" Frank said.

0o0o0o0

"Damn it, let me through."

"Who do you think…" one military officer said. "I'm sorry Lieutenant Colonel, sir."

"Better be," Ed said, making his way into the zoo. He might have yelled at the man under other circumstances, but he knew better and to be honest, the man wasn't high up on his list of concerns at the moment.

"Brother, I can see Aideen."

"I'm not that damned short Al, I can see her too." Ed continued to walk as he cursed himself for calling himself short. "Aideen!"

The dark head turned toward him, making eye contact for only a moment, her expression cold before she turned back to analyzing the thing at her feet.

Finally he made his way through the crowd, trying to ignore the strange looks from the people around him.

"Ed," Kain said, "your hair…"

"Is orange, I know."

He heard Al explaining in more detail while he went to his daughter, that the explosion had turned both their hair orange gradually as the day wore on. But at the moment, all Ed was concerned about was his daughter.

"I don't know if this is someone's idea of a sick joke," he heard Roy saying, "but we aren't going to stand for this."

Ed could see Frank in the distance, talking to some of the zoologists, Kain moving to talk to others in the crowd, having heard Al's summary of Ed's mistake and the explosion that left them both temporary carrot tops. It seemed Frank was doing the investigation, Kain the interrogation. Though it would never have been true with the older man's counterpart, these two worked remarkably well as a team.

Immediately, Ed knelt beside his daughter, putting a hand on her right knee. "Sweetie?"

She slowly turned her head and eyed him cautiously. "You look ridiculous."

"Thank you so much," Ed said, flatly. Then, with genuine concern, he asked, "How are you?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?" She stood up. "Why would I care that someone was stupid enough to try something like this? Why would it matter that a tiger just finished gnawing on something that looks exactly like me? Why would I care?" Though her anger was rising, Ed was taken back by the steady calm in her tone.

"We'll find out who did this."

"Right," she scoffed.

"Aideen, they are doing everything they can," a voice said behind them, coming through the crowd. A scruffy blond head came through, Fletcher grabbing Ed's daughter by the shoulders, spinning her to face him. He was almost manhandling her as he did, and Ed's initial reaction was to pound the younger man into the cement floor, and Roy looked to be thinking the same thing. "I know you're in shock, but you can't take it out on them."

Aideen initially glared at him, but soon, the glare melted and something much more raw came across in her eyes. "Don't I have the right to be angry? This shit keeps happening, and I'm tired of it." And it really sounded like she meant it. Her voice sounded weary, and even a bit weak. "I'm just so damned tired of it all."

At those words, Fletcher seemed to realize the two fathers needed to comfort their daughter, even though Ed was aware it was something needed more for their sake than for hers. The young man slowly began relinquishing her to their waiting arms.

0o0o0o0

Frank stood talking to two men in his investigative team, glancing over his shoulder at the teenager he had grown so attached to, the one he wanted to defend nearly as fiercely as her parents.

"Sir, we've found additional doll parts in other pens. It looks as though something was training the animals to attack."

"Were the other dolls recognizable… and did you say parts?" Frank asked.

"Yes sir, arms, legs, heads, all ripped to near shreds."

"Completely unrecognizable."

"Though, there were pieces that easily could have been either the Wrath or Strong Arm alchemists just by their size."

"Are they training them to attack only military?" Frank asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"There were civilians as well. Whoever made it didn't seem to discriminate about who they were."

"The zoologists are looking over the others now. They said something about the markings didn't match the pens and cages where they were found. They are looking over the dolls now."

"Sir?"

"Yes, lieutenant," Frank said, looking at the younger of the two men.

"I'm from the east, originally, and I can tell you that the hawks in the one cage couldn't have possibly made the marks on one fake arm. I'm not entirely sure any animal from the east could have made it. None I know. It actually resembled ones I had seen on Sergeant Michael's body during the…" The soldier, still no more than twenty-five shook his head. "the chimera attack two years ago."

"Lieutenant," Frank said, a commanding tone in his voice, "though you might suspect that, I would ask you to keep such suspicions to yourself. There were many of us who lost people we knew or cared about in that attack. Such a theory could cause a lot of headaches we don't need right now."

"I understand, sir," the lieutenant said. "It was just something I felt was worth mentioning to you."

"Thank you, lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

Frank again glanced back over at the young girl, remembering the change that had occurred in her after that initial attack. They really didn't need another, she really didn't need another.

0o0o0o0

Wrath pulled Russell behind him, wanting to find out more about that cryptic message they'd received at the restaurant from their highly embarrassed waitress. All they'd been told was that something happened involving the fuhrer's daughter, which meant that most likely Fletcher was involved as well, as the two had been together. Though Wrath had intended to keep things just a bit cold for a while, he knew his… lover, yes that was the word, was concerned about his little brother, just as Wrath was concerned about him as a friend and Aideen as what amounted to his extended family.

So, rather than remaining distant, Wrath moved through the crowd, his own massive hand encircling Russell's, squeezing it reassuringly as they went. Fletcher and Aideen would be okay. They had to be.

From his height, Wrath could see the mussed head of the younger Tringham, talking with Roy about something. At the corner, a very bright orange head belonging to Ed of all people was talking to Aideen on the bench, their knees touching lightly as they were angled to look at one another, Ed with his automail arm around her shoulders, her looking over at him as though she wasn't entirely sure how to carry on this conversation. Then, Wrath spotted the cause of the whole disturbance, what looked like a second Aideen on the floor, clothing shredded, cuts all over her body.

"What the hell?" he said as he reached Fletcher and Roy. Fletcher only glanced down for a moment at Wrath and Russell's clasped hands before explaining everything that had happened. It was strange to see the younger man taking control of a situation like this, but it wasn't a secret that the normally timid blond become something else entirely when his former student was involved. Sometimes, it made Wrath wonder if it went beyond his own feelings of family with Nicholas and to some extent, Aideen.

"Wrath," Roy said, his official tone of voice betrayed by the concerned glanced he made at his daughter and husband on the bench, "I was hoping you'd be able to analyze the doll."

He nodded, kneeling beside the thing that looked like Aideen, watching as Russell was pulled away to look at what appeared to be others like this one.

In the distance, he could hear the voices of several teenage boys, Nicholas and Phillip Armstrong among the group. Almost immediately, Nicholas went to his sister, Phillip looking over at her with a bit of longing in his eyes before turning to Roy.

"Fuhrer, sir, I know I am not yet a cadet, but I hope there is something I can do to help in this." He rigidly saluted the father of his ex-girlfriend.

"I can use your help here as I test the materials used in this thing."

Phillip nodded and knelt beside Wrath.

0o0o0o0

**_Munich_**

"Well, Mr. Schmidt, I am rather happy to have you to add to my studies," the woman said to Hohenheim. "And I am sure we can find some place for your grandson to work."

Phllip Reid, who in the last few months Hohenheim had been teaching alchemy, had very little skill in the area to begin with, but the young man's heart and determination more than made up for it. No one was going to tell this young man he wasn't going to find and save his father.

Hohenheim had finally convinced this woman that he would be an asset, though he kept just how much of one as close to his chest as he could. He didn't want to take the risk of having them discover that in this world where alchemy is nothing more than an innate talent that largely goes unused. It was too great of a risk if they knew that he was capable of higher level alchemy, that he was probably worth more than four or five of the people the Thules had collected together.

"I look forward to the addition that you two will make within our group."

Hohenheim nodded, Phillip taking his lead. Hohenheim didn't trust this woman, and he would constantly look for signs if she knew who he truly was. After all, if she had managed to gather the state alchemists' doubles from this world, who could say she didn't know who he was. Not only that, but he had to find ways to prove himself useful while continuing to sabotage their work. He was trapped on this side of the gate. He'd accepted that, but he wasn't about to allow these people on their crazed quest for Shamballa harm the family he'd left behind.

He'd gotten the message from Al through Wrath and Edward, and it sounded as though his sons were happy in their current lives. If that was true, then Hohenheim wasn't going to let anything ruin that. He'd already done more than enough to hurt his boys, and far too much of his own past had affected their lives.

His only concern at the moment was ensuring that neither Phillip nor his step-father let off any signals to the other that could be perceived by the Thules. It was too much of a risk. Hohenheim's only hope in that regard was that he would be the first to talk to Alex Armstrong, rather than Phillip. Because, while Phillip might be capable of controlling himself, after countless lectures and warnings on the older man's part, Alex had received no warnings, and might simple be excited at the prospect of seeing his son again.

Though he truly didn't deserve to, Hohenheim knew that given the opportunity, he would do almost anything to see his own boys again. He laughed to himself as the group's leader gave them a brief tour of the underground compound. His sons were hardly boys anymore. Both were past thirty, their children, if Al had any, would possibly still be considered children, though Ed's twins were teenagers by now.

Still, as he looked at the weapons around him, the ones Eckhart planned to take through the Gate if she ever got it open, he realized that perhaps there were some things he wouldn't do to see them again, not if it meant their lives would be at stake.

0o0o0o0

**_Amestris_**

"You know, Mr. Tucker, originally I was very angry with you for leaving those dolls in the zoo," Dante said as she meandered around the cages containing the chimeras, scratching their heads and offering them affection. She'd learned by now that by being kind to them, she could get them to protect her from anything. "However, it seems there was a method to your madness."

"I had hoped the military would react the way that they have," Tucker hissed.

"Yes, they suspect this was a stunt done by an alchemist to frighten the little Mustang brood." She walked to his little doll, nothing more than a mixture of animal parts in the shape of a human. "I wonder how long, though, until they realize they were training devices for my little pets here?"

"Well, I seriously doubt that even if they suspect they will ever anticipate that they are being housed directly below the fuhrer's mansion."

"That was a stroke of genius on my part," she said, looking over at the strange creature she'd aligned herself too. "How goes the research?"

"Very well. Though I believe you are still holding out portions of it."

"Well, I must ensure the Gate is opened, first, Mr. Tucker, or at the very least that I am closer to my goals." Dante smiled at the man, trying to evoke some charm in the recesses of her old, rotted soul. "And learning how to make a proper homunculi, one that will behave more like a human is not a task that can be rushed. It is better that you understand all aspects that go into creating one before you attempt it."

The large chimera nodded his upturned head as Dante prepared to leave for the surface. "Please feel free to contact me should you need anything."

0o0o0o0

Nicholas glanced at his sister's door when he awoke early the next morning, very rare for him. There was a dark feeling eating away at his gut that things would never be the same. The look in his sister's eyes yesterday shook him more than he'd ever be able to express. Aideen may have been an "ice princess" before, but the simple fact was that he didn't know how much more she could take.

He flexed his automail. Yes, he'd lost a lot, but the fact was that it was all affecting his sister on a more emotional level. He had been studying Dante, and he wondered just how much his sister knew—she always knew more than he did. Nicholas looked over the frame of the door, smiling at the spot where he'd measured them both when he finally surpassed her. Things were changing, and he could sense it.

He only hoped they weren't permanent.h


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47 **

"I know you don't want to, but this is the big birthday, Aideen. Driver's licenses, cars, nearly legal age…" Nicholas looked at his sister for any sign of movement, aside from one pale, thin hand turning the page of the book. "Please, I don't want a party if you're going to be miserable, but they can't thrown one just for me, and we both know it."

Aideen huffed as she removed the glasses she'd begun wearing to keep from overstraining her eyes. Delicately, she placed them on the open pages of the book she was reading. "It's that important to you?"

Nicholas didn't know why his twin always caved when it came to doing things he wanted, guessing it might have been lingering guilt or possibly just the bond they'd always shared since childhood. He could tell, whatever it was, that it was working yet again, just by the resigned expression on her face. "I'd really like it."

There was another huff. "Fine."

Nicholas latched onto his sister tightly, feeling her wriggle in his embrace. "Thank you." He grabbed his sister's head, comically kissing her, ensuring that she would pull free of his grasp, wiping her mouth on the black sleeve around her lean arms.

He then received a small grunt in recognition of his thanks as she put her glasses back on and resumed her reading.

It bothered Nicholas to look at his sister now, her skin holding the pallor of someone who rarely went out into the sun. Her body still healthy, but lost some of its muscular tone from sparring, as she refused to do it any longer, even when Nicholas begged his hardest. Even his argument that she might need her sparring skills in battle didn't seem to have any effect. She had withdrawn from nearly everyone who didn't force her to bear their company, save for Fletcher Tringham, who continued to work with her on plant alchemy, as she was once again struggling from killing every green thing she touched when trying to perform it.

Worse yet, for the first time in his nearly sixteen years, Nicholas was arguing with his sister on a fairly regular basis. Not when she was like she was at the moment, but when she put on the pretense that everything was okay. Something always unnerved him when she did it, and he didn't know why. All he knew was when she walked around the house, apologizing for being overly mopey, Nicholas had this undeniable urge to fight with her if just to wipe those unnatural smiles off her face.

Not helping their own relationship any, Aideen had been given the option of passing out of school and had gladly taken it, not seeing the benefit in socialization that Nicholas had when given that choice, himself. Sure, his textbooks were all filled with red ink and editing marks, and he'd become the fact-checker for his teacher, but he hadn't felt it necessary to withdraw from school altogether. Now, they had one fewer thing in common to discuss, debate about.

"Is there a reason you're still in my room?" she asked.

"I just wondered what's so entertaining up here that you've cut yourself off from the rest of the world. Same ugly purple walls, shelves of books, some I see you've snuck from the restricted sections of the library…"

Her head snapped up and those molten eyes narrowed at him over the thin specs.

"I'm not telling our fathers, just looking." He flopped down on her neatly made bed, wrinkling the comforter. "I never realized this was velvet. How indulgent and decadent we are, Aideen."

He stretched his left arm up at the stars he'd painted on the ceiling back when it had been their uncle Al's. They were faint and hardly noticeable in the light, but had been a comfort to their uncle. After all the years in the armor, he'd become a bit timid when it concerned being in the dark. The tiny specks of glowing light from the incandescent paint had comforted the man when he'd been younger. Nicholas smiled to himself. His uncle had been about the same age as he and Aideen were now when he'd been freed from the armor.

"Are you done?" Aideen asked, her nose still firmly buried in her book.

"Afraid I'll mess up your perfect hospital corners?" Nicholas asked as he squirmed and untucked layers of her bedding.

"More afraid that I won't be able to get the sweaty smell of teenage boy off my bed."

"Are you saying I stink?"

"You aren't exactly sweet-smelling."

Nicholas grabbed for his chest. "I'm hurt, Aideen. Truly hurt."

"Well, don't let me stop you from storming out," Aideen said, eyes never leaving the book, right hand pointing to the door.

As Nicholas left the room, he said in his most childish voice, "You know, you're no fun."

0o0o0o0

This was probably Ed's twelfth headache so far that day, or at least it felt like it as he sat analyzing research and trying to uncover the source of recent activity with the Gate. The more this continued, the more gradually Central was becoming a ghost town. Oh, not everyone had abandoned it, but it was growing blatantly obvious that the ratio of military personnel to civilians was growing. Before long, the military was going to have to start paying for dress shops and restaurants to remain open and staffed.

Most of the time, nothing came through the Gate at all, and it seemed nothing more than a nasty storm, but twice, a small rocket had burst through, each with a message for Dante, actually giving orders to the ancient woman. If Dante truly were alive, it amused him that this world's greatest political manipulator would be given orders by some third-rate alchemist on Earth. Part of him wanted to find out who Dante was just so he could let her lose on these Earth alchemists in hopes they'd destroy one another.

It was an entertaining idea, but unrealistic. There would be a winner, and with his luck, the battle will have only made that side stronger.

He groaned, laying his head on the black granite of his lab table.

"Brother?" Al put an arm around Ed's shoulders. "Brother, are you okay? Is it your head again?"

"No, Al, it's my ankle, that's why I'm rubbing my temples."

"I'm just trying to be considerate, Ed," Al said. Damn it, Ed knew he was in for a lecture now. He was only called "Ed" by his baby brother when Al was particularly peeved at him over something. "You know, you aren't the only one concerned about the Gate opening. I have a family here, too, you know."

"Yes, and you have no obligation to keep them here. You aren't military, Al."

"I might as well be. I've free-lanced enough I've been given a state alchemist name."

"You were given the name because the fuhrer's your brother-in-law, Al. He felt strange referring to you as my brother in public meetings, so he started calling you the Soul Alchemist."

"I'm not leaving, and you know it, Ed. But you've got other people here to help you, so don't put it all on yourself."

"I'm not, Al," Ed said, defeatedly into the stone of the table. "I'm just so tired of going round and round this issue. I've tapped nearly every resource I have, read over every text."

"What about Father's research?"

"He was pre-occupied with Envy, trying to make him more human." Ed scoffed. "Like that would ever be possible."

"Brother," Al said, hugging him around the shoulders. "We'll find an answer. You know we will. Though, I think there is one, or rather two, resources you haven't yet looked into."

"We've been through this Al, I'm not getting the twins involved. It's bad enough as it is with the regular storms from the Gate. I won't let them know the risk involved, know what Dante had in mind for my daughter. I won't, Al."

It was bad enough as it was, watching Aideen withdraw more and more into herself, with nothing Roy or Ed did helping the situation at all. Nicholas was, well, Nicholas. There really had never been any descriptors for him, and that hadn't changed. Then again, Nicholas hadn't seen a doll of himself shredded in an animal pit. Nicholas hadn't lost his faith in his parents.

That shook Ed, knowing that he didn't see that look of complete trust in his daughter's eyes that had once been there. It had become very obvious that she no longer believed that her parents would be able to keep her safe. And there was a part of Ed that doubted it himself. For years now, he'd been trying to find Dante, with no success, and while part of him wanted to believe that she'd had contact with Earth prior to her destruction—if it could be called that—but he knew better. Something like her doesn't manage to survive four hundred years to be destroyed by their own creation, to just be eaten.

"Brother?" Wearily, Ed looked up at Al. "We'll find an answer, you know that. So we have to actually study something for many years like the rest of the general public instead of instantly figuring it out." Al pulled at the silver necklace around his neck. "At least we know we all have this."

"But not everyone does, and if we give it to someone after the fact, it does us no good. Dante could walk around with one of those around her neck and be just fine. It only stops the transferal."

"Then, we'll approach it from another angle. We're the Elric Brothers, the former child prodigies. Are you telling me we're getting slow in our old age."

"Watch calling yourself old, Al. I'm a year older than you."

"And you still don't look it."

"If that was a short joke—"

"I leave those to your husband. He's the only one who can get away with them without imminent death."

"Ah. Then you found your first gray hairs."

"Only three."

"Pull them out?" Ed asked with a smirk.

"Mm-hmm. It hurt."

Ed wrapped his arm around his brother's waist. "My baby brother's vain of his human body." And with that, Ed felt a quick twinge of pain in his scalp. "Damn it, Al!"

"Sorry, thought I saw a gray, Brother," Al said, teasing. "Just a light blond."

"Oh, bite me Al, unlike those of you with slightly darker hair, no one will know I'm going gray until I'm mostly there." He smacked his little brother's back, pulling another text to analyze. "Let's get back to work."

"Whatever you say Master Slavedriver," Al said, sitting next to him. Ed was unbelievably grateful for his brother when it came to research. Every time Ed felt close to giving up, Al managed to bring him back to the right state of mind to start all over again.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher opened the door to his brother's apartment, having to drop off a few items of research he'd picked up from a trip south with Raine Mustang. The two had gone as experts to analyze plants touted for their medicinal uses, though at his age, Fletcher didn't quite feel he was an expert yet. It had been an interesting trip to say the least. For whatever reason, the eldest Mustang had taken a liking to Fletcher, and had proven to be an overbearing mother-figure the entire trip—though if asked, even under extreme torture, he'd never have admitted it for fear she'd find out he'd said she was like a mother. Despite having hit her 49th birthday, Raine Mustang remained stubborn about being old enough to be other adults' mother.

On the trip, she'd griped a bit about her step-daughter of sorts—Raine didn't care about marrying Falman and he was quite happy with how things were considering his nasty divorce years ago—and the fact that Falman's daughter had invited her father and Raine to visit the little granddaughter purposely choosing a time when Raine would be away. There was no denying it had been a strategic move, as time hadn't improved the relationship between Raine and her boyfriend's daughter, though the connection between the little girl and her "grandmama" was something else entirely.

If Fletcher hadn't known all this prior to the trip, he would have been well-versed in the battles between Vato's daughter and the doctor by the end of it, hard as Raine tried not to complain on the subject.

Fletcher chuckled at himself, grateful that years of being with Russell had engrained a patience in him that had allowed him to merely find her ranting amusing. He shifted the papers higher in his arms, pushing them up with his thigh before walking into the hall of the small apartment.

"If the two of you are doing anything I don't want to walk in on, would you please warn me," he called out.

"Nothing perverted going on here," Russell yelled back, followed by a barely audible, "that you can see."

Fletcher scowled in the direction of his brother's voice, shuddered at mental pictures he didn't want and walked into the room that doubled as study and library for the couple, finding Wrath on the sofa—the single piece of furniture would fit with their separate desks in the room as well—placing a book down on the end table. His other hand seemed to never stop stroking Russell's blond hair as Fletcher's older brother was laying across the rest of the hard, green couch, his head resting on Wrath's lap.

"Is that the alchemic manuscript you told me about?" Russell asked, sounding like a hungry dog about to get his first bite of real food in months.

"Yes, all on the subject of the various uses for silicone in alchemy."

"I've heard the stuff could be used in women to enlarge breasts," Wrath said absentmindedly. "Though, that wouldn't interest Russell since he always dates flat-chested women."

"Haven't dated a woman in a long time, and have no desire to see you with them," Russell said as he grabbed hold of Wrath's right pec, squeezing it only to receive a slight yelp from the younger man.

Fletcher rolled his eyes, feeling somewhere in the recesses of his stomach, he was going to be sick. They were much less obnoxious when they were perverted and fighting most of the time.

"Look, Wrath," Russell said, holding the larger man's hand, "I think my baby brother is jealous."

"He needs to find someone," Wrath said, nodding.

"Oh, he's waiting for his to be legal," Russell teased, leaving Fletcher standing staring at him, mouth open. "It's love, I tell you. He named a flower after her and everything. I didn't even get one."

"Yes you did, it was called the big asshole," Fletcher said with a glare.

Russell was unfazed by his younger brother's words. "Isn't it next week when you won't be able to be thrown into jail for being with her as long as she approves?"

Fletcher walked over to Russell, dropping the stack of manuscripts and research on his older brother's stomach, knocking the wind out of him in a groan of pain.

"You're a bigger pervert than even I thought you were, Russell," Fletcher said. "Bye, Wrath."

With that, he left the apartment, wondering what the hell made his brother think he was interested in… She was still a kid. He was just her teacher, a friend. Worse yet, his older brother had suggested that Fletcher wanted to do something with the girl nearly eleven years his junior that was still illegal for another week. Just because his brother was a gigantic pervert, and in a relationship with an even bigger one didn't mean it was genetic.

He huffed in frustration, slamming the door behind him.

0o0o0o0

Phillip changed out of his cadet uniform, grateful there weren't incredibly strict dress codes in place as there had been when his father and even the fuhrer had attended there. He slipped on a pair of jeans, a lightweight shirt and ran his hands through his unmanageable curls. He was so sick of hearing people taunt him as "Phillip so-called Armstrong." No, genetically, he wasn't his father's son, nor did he look it; he'd known that all his life, and he didn't need to have any more knowledge of the fact of how he came to be. He knew enough of his true genetic heritage to know to renounce it at each turn.

Personally, he felt their treatment of him was incredibly unfair. He was gradually becoming a powerful alchemist in his own rights, even if it would never be to the extent of his best friend or ex-girlfriend.

Then again, being an alchemist certainly wasn't helping his case either, as the stigma against them might have gone but the jealousy surrounding them for their abilities never faded. Worse yet, Phillip wasn't just an alchemist, but one that was a family friend of the fuhrer's family. No one treated him the same as the other cadets. Some teachers put him up on some sort of pedestal, as though afraid to anger the fuhrer through him while others were certain he expected such treatment and intended to give him just the opposite. It was the same behavior for the students.

The really obnoxious ones who seemed attached to Phillip's hip because of his connections, the young man considered chasing away with the tried and true method Armstrongs had unintentionally been practicing for years. He'd grown up with more than enough tales of the illustrious Armstrong lineage, and while he found them fascinating, he'd only needed to watch the reactions of those not somehow connected to the line—even his own mother—to know that for the rest of the world, that was not necessarily the case. He could recite many of the tales by heart, and probably would if one more person asked him to invite them to the fuhrer's mansion, which wasn't even a mansion if you got down to it, just a heavily guarded home. Or perhaps, he'd use the truly tedious ones on the cadets that had intentions toward Aideen. With a devilish smile, he considered letting them visit with General Armstrong himself.

As far as Phillip was concerned, his relationship with her wasn't a ship that had sailed, but one still ready at dock for him to be done with the academy, even if it hadn't been waiting on him all along. He still cared for her, maybe even loved her. And even if she never felt the same way about him, he certainly wasn't going to let just anyone date her or use him to get to her. She deserved someone far more special than these groveling future obedient military dogs. He'd have rather seen her with one of the cadets who resented Phillip's connection with her family than the ones who tried to befriend him because of it.

0o0o0o0

"What the hell do they mean rejected because of our 'lifestyle'?" Frank asked Kain. "I may not be the most devout believer in religion, but I'd have done everything I could to make sure she'd have known about her culture and her people's beliefs. I thought we were accepted here."

"But not by all cultures. Alana is Ishballan. Apparently the Isballan Council deemed it didn't want a child from their culture raised by a homosexual couple. It's against their religion. And that isn't even considering religious differences or the tension that still exists with the military."

"Oh." Frank just stared at the letter he held in his hands, Kain rubbing a sympathetic hand over his husband's arm. There were very few orphans who had seemed a good fit for them to adopt, excluding the roadblocks that occurred every time they attempted to adopt one who did. Frank had said it was Fate's way of telling them they weren't meant to be fathers. Then, two months ago, they'd discovered Alana, and she'd immediately taken to the two men, not seeming to care at the age of seven that they were a couple or worked for the military.

Her personality would have been a nice addition to their little home and family, but the extra room would remain vacant.

Kain could see his husband gritting his teeth, jaw clenched. He knew that face and had seen it often enough in their relationship. He wrapped his arms around Frank, pulling the taller man's face to rest on his shoulder, pretending that he didn't notice the wet warmth through his thin shirt as two arms wrapped around him in return.

"Al was right. It isn't a sign that we shouldn't be fathers. It's a sign that there's someone out there who's going to need us one day that just isn't today."

"Since when did you become a ruddy philosopher?"

Kain kissed the pale cheek next to his own. "Since I thought it might make you feel just a bit better."

"You're a hopeless sap, you know that?"

"As though you'd have me any other way."

Kain felt Frank move his hands, rubbing at his eyes before he pulled back to properly kiss the smaller man. If it was the way Kain touched the older man that made him melt, it was the way Frank kissed that made Kain a willing slave to his husband as the man began tilting his head, his tongue massaging over Kain's gums, writhing over his tongue, moving in ways that could only simulate the most intimate of acts. All the while, one arm would wrap around Kain's torso, the other running just beneath the smaller man's arms and up to his head, where a strong, alabaster hand held his head in place if for any reason Kain should decide this wasn't second only to the bliss of heaven and try to move away.

"I know it isn't going to do us any good about this situation," Frank said gesturing to the paper in his hand. "But what do you say we take this to the bedroom?"

"Well," Kain said with a smirk, "if it could do anything about that," He pulled the paper from his husband's hand, dropping it on the couch. "I'd have to say that we'd have both been pregnant a few dozen times over."

0o0o0o0

**_Munich _**

At what point he'd become a vandal, Hohenheim wasn't sure, but even he had to laugh at himself for the minute changes he regularly made to the Thules alchemic design. They were so simple, the swapping of a word here or a line misdrawn there. But those simple changes set them back for weeks at a time, more than enough for him to delay their plans until he could find a solution.

Of course, his attitude had changed when he'd seen the letter that Frau Eckhart sent through the Gate, not that she'd intended him to, addressed to Dante. Initially, he'd questioned whether his former lover had been involved in helping them before her demise, but he knew better. Dante's favorite homunculus had always been Pride, and it was little wonder. The woman had always run over with it.

Her arrogance had known no bounds. Hohenheim had extended his own life for largely selfish means: fear of death, the desire to see his son alive again, wanting to feel the warmth of someone who truly loved him the way Trisha had. Dante had done it to prove she could and continued to do it to further emphasize her separation from humanity, which proved in her own twisted logic that she was the only one truly capable of protecting humanity from its own undoing through alchemy.

Dante would have bragged if she'd made contact on the other side of the Gate. She could hardly stand the fact that she'd discovered a way to open the Gate using an innocent baby as a key.

As Hohenheim stood in a circle around the transmutation circle that had only recently been altered by his own hands to ensure nothing made it through the Gate that day, he closed his eyes and prayed he wasn't sick, prayed his boys were safe, even if he didn't really have anyone to pray to.

0o0o0o0

_**Amestris**_

"Hi Maes," Roy said, taking a seat in the grass, having long-since gotten over his unease in graveyards. He brushed away a stray tear with the back of his gloved hand. "If you couldn't tell, I visited Riza first."

Roy sighed. "Don't worry about me. The guards are all posted just out of earshot, save for Maria Ross, who swore herself to absolute secrecy as the commander of my personal guard. But should anything happen, they've got a tight perimeter on me. I didn't finally manage to become fuhrer to get my head blown off by an assassin."

Roy leaned slightly against the aging stone of his friend's grave marker. "It's times like these I miss you being around. You were an annoying, but damned good father, and at the moment, I'm at a loss. Nicholas is, well, every curse my mother threw at me to be 'blessed' with a child like me. Plus he's Ed, too, if you can only imagine. But Aideen…"

Roy paused, shaking his head. "She's sunk so deep into a depression—that's the only word for it—but she remains stubborn when we try to get her therapy. And, damn it Maes, she's angry. At us, I really believe. I'm at a loss. I'd have always thought Aideen would have the same coping mechanism her brother did with the arm, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I suppose it was stupid of me to expect them to react the same way to the strange events that are their lives. They have never been identical in anything.

"Though, there are times when Ed and I see glimmers of something else, and it gives us some hope that maybe things are improving, just a bit. But those moments are few and far between, and when they happen, they are usually ended by some argument between the twins. Until recently, I don't think I can actually remember a time I heard them yelling over anything more than a pulled pigtail or a transfigured bathroom door."

Though, Roy managed a smile at that moment. "Enough of my depressing tale. I wonder, did you hear that you are on your way toward being a grandfather? Your daughter's been married less than a year, and already she's expecting. Apparently, it was discovered during a physical that she's about six weeks along. I know it's not very far, but it is still very strange to imagine that little Elysia is old enough to be a mother. You were annoying as hell as a father. I'd be almost frightened to see what you would be like as a grandfather."

Roy patted the stone. "And I know if you were here, you'd remind me that you're not my only friend capable of listening, that I have Ed and his family, Raine and hers, not to mention the men and Gracia. Even Frank Archer, though I never thought I would say that after the age of nineteen. It's just... familiar to talk to you this way."

Roy rose from the grass. "You want to know something Maes, it seems unfair you'll stay forever 31 in everyone's memory. I'd always been able to picture you with a gray head, wrinkles on your face, never myself." Again, he put his hand on the sun-warmed stone. "Thanks for listening like always."


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48 **

**_Clash of Wills _**

****

**_One Month Later_**

Wrath looked over the maps for an irrigation ditch to one of the growing towns south of Central, where a number of the former residents had fled in the last few months. The sudden influx of people had caused problems providing the basic necessities for them, and Wrath had been assigned, along with Fletcher, to analyze the possibility of bringing irrigation to the people not only to provide potable water but also water for the nearby farms to increase crop size.

Fletcher put his head down on the table. "We've been through this a half dozen times. This is the best way." "And the fuhrer rejects it every time."

"He rejects it because my idiot brother had to go sharing stupid theories with him." Fletcher groaned. "Really, Wrath, how can you stand to be with him… and don't give me details about the sex being good or anything that will make me any more mentally disturbed than you two have already managed."

"I love him," Wrath said, patting Fletcher on the back. "If I didn't, no amount of mind-blowing sex" Fletcher groaned in protest to those words. "would matter." Wrath began folding some of the maps. "Besides, Russell didn't say anything that I know of to Roy, aside from the fact that Aideen was now legal, and you were still single."

"Still," Fletcher said in a groan against the tabletop.

"You are here because Roy and Ed are trying to get Aideen to actually talk to her therapist instead of just to you." Wrath watched as a pair of green eyes, much more emerald in tone than his brother's, looked up at him. "Roy knew he'd have three weeks trying to get funding for the project from parliament, and that's why he keeps rejecting our requests. We have to stay here a few more days, and you'll be back home in time to celebrate your birthday. "

"So why'd they have to be so underhanded about it?"

"Because if you agreed and Aideen found out, she'd stop talking to you, too, and that would leave no one she could trust to tell her feelings to, save for Nicholas." And realistically, Wrath knew the young man didn't need that kind of pressure as the only person left that his sister could trust. Especially if she had Fletcher.

"And what about you?" Fletcher asked, lifting his head and helping with the maps. "Why are you stuck here with me?"

"Apparently, Ed doesn't think I trust your brother enough."

"With good reason," the younger Tringham answered as he neatly boxed away the farm layouts.

"Exactly." Wrath stood, unfastening the large leather band that had been holding his braids back from his face. "But, Ed, deciding to play big brother to me because Al's got his life pretty much under control, thought I should be forcibly separated from Russell to find out for certain whether or not your brother would be faithful this time around."

"If he isn't, he's not moving into my apartment. That was absolutely depressing and miserable. Not only was he a pain to have to deal with because he was missing you and kicking himself for stupidity, but all those habits he has that I had since forgotten were back along with him."

Wrath smiled at his boyfriend's brother. It was nice to know that Fletcher was his friend outside of the fact that he was dating Russell. There was also a strange comfort in the fact that the thin blond had always made Wrath consider him what Edward might have been in a less confining atmosphere growing up.

As Fletcher gathered a box under an arm, he looked over at Wrath. "What is it with my brother trying to insist there's something between Aideen and I?"

The dark-haired man wanted to tell the shorter one that he simply needed to pay better attention to get that answer, but instead, he shrugged. "Well, now that we know we're stuck here for a few days and have all of our studies and analysis done, why don't we see what this little town has to offer in the way of entertainment?"

0o0o0o0

"Stop!" Danny shouted from his place beside Nicholas, lurching forward in his seat as they came to an intersection.

"I was stopping," the new driver answered as he looked over at the pale-faced guard.

"Now, I'm certain of it that you got your license because of who your fathers are."

"I'm not that bad."

"Nicholas, I saw my entire life flash before my eyes." Danny rubbed his face as they jerked a bit at Nicholas's start when the light turned green. "It was a rather depressing few seconds I'd rather not repeat."

The teen laughed at his and Aideen's chief guard. "Well, so far, it may not be a happy flash, but at least I've managed to live a life to entertain me in moments like that," Nicholas answered with a grin as he tried his best attempt to parallel park in front of his therapist's office. He looked up at the brick building. "You know, I'd be done with these damned sessions if the shrink didn't think I had 'unresolved aggression' toward Aideen. I hate her."

"Aideen?" Danny asked, looking at him, troubled.

"No, the shrink," Nicholas answered with a laugh. "She's an idiot. I know why I get angry at Aideen, but that woman thinks my sister is exactly what Aideen has worked so hard to make her believe."

"Sounds a little like unresolved aggression." Danny said, bouncing in the seat as Nicholas bumped the curb a bit too hard.

"But not because of my arm. That therapist is full of crap, and I keep telling my parents that, but because they've seen such a difference in Aideen's behavior since she started going, they're thrilled. Well, excuse me, but woop-de-freaking-do."

Nicholas could feel that white-hot anger growing in his gut, and for a moment, he regretted never having studied plant alchemy with Fletcher to get the training in meditation that Aideen had learned. At the moment, it would have been helpful. He was trying to convince the psychologist that he didn't need to continue meeting with her, and it certainly wasn't going to happen if he went in looking like he was ready to kill.

With Danny visibly close by and two of the other guards nearby watching Nicholas and distracting reporters, the teen walked into the office building. Danny led him to the waiting area, quickly checking the waiting area for any signs of suspicious activity, then left, positioning himself at the only entrance or exit to the place save for the therapist's room itself. Nicholas looked around the empty room. Unlike most doctors' offices he'd been to, even his Aunt Winry's automail shop, this waiting room was a pristine shrine to silence as Dr. Zacharias didn't believe in distractions like magazines or conversation. She felt it encouraged the patient to be more talkative to her if given moments of reflection beforehand.

Nicholas pulled a sheet of rubber from his pocket, glancing for Danny before transforming it into a ball, which he began tossing around. That was entertaining enough, he supposed, but he had heard Aideen saying after their last appointments she was all but given a clean bill of mental health. Nicholas loved his sister, but he knew that was complete and utter bull crap.

Transmuting the ball back, Nicholas clapped his hands together then to the wall to allow him to hear what was going on inside just a bit better.

"I'm really feeling much better about everything," Nicholas heard his sister say in that falsely optimistic voice she used when she was trying to convince their parents she was okay.

"And how are things between you and your brother?"

Shitty, Nicholas supplied.

"Improving."

Nicholas furrowed his brows at the wall.

"And are you trying to get outside more often? A little fresh air can do wonders."

"I've noticed. I'm not going out all the time, but I take Flint outside when he needs a breather or to stretch his legs."

In the waiting room, her brother scoffed. She'd only started taking _her_ dog out because he'd refused. He had a cat of his own to take care of and changing Charcoal's litter box was disgusting enough without having to follow around behind the hyperactive and too-smart-for-it's-own-good Elkhound waiting for it to make a "doodie" on the lawn.

"Well, I think a few more conversations like this, and we might be ending our professional relationship, Aideen. I'm very glad for that."

Nicholas rolled his eyes. Dr. Zacharias had this wonderful delusion that her patients would want to be friends with her once they were "cured" or whatever the hell psychological mumbo-jumbo she termed it. The woman wasn't exactly a quack, but she certainly wasn't Dr. Petrov, the doctor who'd initially helped Nicholas cope with the loss of his arm. His father's had wanted the twins both to go back to her, but Dr. Petrov had moved west.

For a few minutes, Nicholas listened as Aideen painted a rose-colored portrait of what she'd done since their last appointment, making it sound as though she was not only on the mend but ready for a marathon. Inside, he seethed. His sister needed help, and if this so-called professional couldn't see that, then he was going to see to it himself.

He watched as his sister exited the office.

"Your turn," she said, almost chipper.

"Why don't you go back in there? Maybe you'll actually tell the truth."

Aideen eyed him carefully. "Are you saying I lied to her?"

"I'm saying you pretended to be this chipper, happy thing that you haven't been in I don't know how long."

"Does it just bother you that I'm improving and you're not?"

"Improving? The only thing improving is your acting ability." Nicholas narrowed coal-black eyes at his sister. "This isn't you, not really."

"Oh, so you prefer a despondent sister to a happy one? What does it say about you? Our fathers have already said how much they prefer me when I'm like this. So why don't you? Do you prefer seeing me mope about the house dressed in black, acting as though my entire life is a giant black hole?"'

"I prefer it if it's genuine. This isn't!" At this point, Nicholas wasn't even sure why he was yelling, he just knew he couldn't stop.

"Or is it that you prefer me wallowing in guilt over your arm? Would you rather I was still feeling ashamed that I ran off to keep the salon safe not knowing that the incessant hero would come after me trying to 'save me'?"

As though watching from outside his own body, Nicholas was in shock as he launched himself at Aideen.

0o0o0o0

"Well, hello, Brigadier General, Sir," Frank said, as Kain walked through the door of his office.

"Colonel," Kain said, with a curt nod of the head.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Frank's secretary said. "Don't try to act formal all of a sudden because you've both been promoted."

"Yes," Roy said from the corner, startling Kain so much, Frank started to chuckle. His husband could be brave in battle, but when in the real world, he still jumped like a skittish pup when caught off guard. "Really, the two of you are so sickeningly sweet most of the time, seeing you this formal is just awkward."

Frank's secretary smiled at him, them Kain, as she left.

"Fuhrer, sir, is there something wrong?"

"No," Roy said. "Just doing a brief inspection of the departments. I've spoken to your husband concerning investigations. How is military intelligence?"

"Still searching for signs of it, sir." Kain snickered, Frank groaned, and Roy rolled his eyes.

"Careful with that joke, Fuery," Roy said. "It's an antique."

"So is that pun," Frank said, leaning back in his chair. "Even on my world."

"I forget," Roy said, "I'm outnumbered here."

"We're old pros at having to team up against the world." Frank put his feet on top of his desk.

"Well, don't mind me. I'm just the fuhrer. Throw your feet up wherever you want."

"What's the benefit of being a colonel in charge of a department if I don't get to enjoy my own desk?"

Roy merely shook his head, that look of mild surprise on his face, one Frank had grown familiar with over the last few years. This was obviously yet another move or attitude that the other Archer would never have considered.

Frank listened as his husband gave a short explanation of the current state of military intelligence, what had been learned on Dante as well as the doll from the zoo. Essentially, they knew the dolls were attacked by chimeras—that had been Frank's department to investigate—and at this time, Military Intelligence was gathering information on the strange chimeras that had been mistaken for genuine eastern animals.

All the while, Roy nodded, listening and taking in every word. It was this side of his character that wasn't necessarily different from the Mustang Frank had known on Earth, but far more utilized. Roy seemed to grasp concepts very well, and he tended to look at multiple outcomes and scenarios at once. The Mustang Frank had left on Earth had a very narrow field of vision when it came to the future, usually ending with him earning a commendation or promotion.

"And, I wondered how things are going on the adoption front."

"They're not," Frank said. "It's just so hard to find a child capable of understanding where I come from, even if it's not immediate. Other orphanages still refuse to trust me enough to allow me to raise a child."

Kain agreed and began adding more to the list of reasons that seemed to constantly stand in their way.

Frank had managed remarkably well to keep his composure as Kain continued to explain the many reasons why they still hadn't managed to adopt or find a way to have a child. The last adoption attempt had hit them pretty hard because of the religious differences, but the simple fact was that everything seemed to be falling through. They had attempted artificial insemination with Anna, but nothing took, and though Kain and Anna were both in support of another try, Frank simply didn't think he could go through it all again. It was too much, too painful. If the world had wanted the couple to be parents, it would happen on its terms, nothing less. Kain continued to want to fight that, but Frank had resigned himself to that fact.

He wasn't a religious man, never had been, but Frank had been raised to at least believe in the small signs one is offered in life. This seemed like a rather big one to him. Fate, god, nature, or even that damned Gate that was the source of so many recent problems, seemed to be telling them to hold out just a bit longer or give up all together. But as long as Kain still wanted to try to be a parent, Frank would continue to visit orphanages, to try to find a child understanding enough and an orphanage with no prejudices against him for the bastard's behavior.

0o0o0o0

Ed ran down the street, Al and his brood in tow. He'd heard the radio report that there was a fight going on at the twins' therapist. And honestly, he couldn't say what part of himself was most concerned at that moment, the part that thought this was someone outside of the family attacking him, or the part that thought it was the twins once again fighting one another. He'd always considered the psychologist's office a sanctuary for the teens, or at least a place where they could go and he wouldn't have to get half-sick with worry about their safety.

Perhaps that was why the idea they were fighting seemed so strong and why he felt so sick by the idea. Running along side one of the guards, he heard the radio squawk again.

"Alchemic interference…" The signal broke. "We're trying to… under control… attacked Aideen… she verbally…"

Ed knew his children's recent behaviors well enough to fill in the blanks. "There's alchemic interference. We're trying to get them under control. Nicholas attacked Aideen after she verbally attacked him."

In normal situations, normal households, a fight between siblings was a commonplace occurrence that didn't require the intervention of military personnel, but the twins had never been normal, never would be normal. They were fighting, and not just a simple brawl, but a fight that involved alchemy and possibly weapons.

Ed was to pick up the twins after their appointments to go out to eat with Al and his five. As he ran, he grew more and more angry, not only at the fact that his children were behaving so ridiculously, but also knowing that Sasha and Robert, as well as Hannah were particularly excited about having lunch with their cousins. Being older, those three held the twins in near hero-worship, rather than the simple admiration the younger two showed. And now, because Ed's children couldn't manage to behave themselves, he was going to have to disappoint all of his nieces and nephews.

When they reached the building, Al and his children waited in the lobby.

"Brother, do you need me to come with you?"

"Stay with the kids." Ed went to the stairs, climbing up as far as he could.

He had seen the signs of a battle with alchemy shining through the windows outside. Finally reaching the floor where he knew his children were battling, Ed flung open a door and saw as Nicholas attempted to throw something, what, Ed didn't know, but the object looked heavy enough to knock her down but not hurt her. With a clap of her hands, Aideen disintegrated the thing before it even grazed her.

"STOP THIS! NOW!"

For just a moment, Aideen looked distracted, just enough time for Nicholas, a pole he'd created from the floor in his hands, to move to her in a flash. He knocked her feet out from under her and held the pole to her neck.

"I'm done with this therapy, and I hope you are too unless you actually plan to tell the truth." With a clap of his hands, he returned the pole to the wood floor. He turned his back on Aideen and moved beside Ed.

"Nicholas, in a spar, you always help the opponent back to their feet," Ed said, hoping that somehow, things weren't as bad as he thought, that the punishment would only have to be for irresponsibility.

"This wasn't a spar," his son said, dark eyes cold.

0o0o0o0

Russell sat at the bar beside Kain Fuery, not daring to try to match the man drink for drink, having learned that lesson the hard way. Instead, he was nursing a glass of whiskey, looking over at the man only a few years older than himself.

"You're missing him, aren't you?" Kain said.

"Mm-hmm." He took another sip. "What about you? Why's half of the perfectly sickening couple getting himself drunk?"

"I very rarely get drunk, Russell," Kain said, ordering another gin and tonic. "Frank has a late night."

"Hmm." Russell said, swirling the liquid around in his glass. "Has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Frank's been a little off since you got rejected for that Isballan girl?"

Kain coughed, glanced at him, then shook his head. "You are nothing if not blunt. Yes, it might just have a little bit to do with that."

"So, are you going to keep dragging him to orphanage after orphanage, have him keep going through the embarrassing process of providing the 'goods' for insemination, all in the attempt to have a child?"

Russell watched as Kain's chest puffed out. "We _both_ want this child."

"Yes, but you seem to be pushing things. Do you have a deadline or something?" Russell finished off his drink.

"And what about you, sitting here moping because your boyfriend's been taken away. I know you miss him, but I think some of this," Kain gestured to Russell with a wave. "might be for show because you think this is how you need to act to show the rest of us you miss him and you love him."

"I asked first."

Kain sighed. "I'd like to know Frank and I have found a child before he turns fifty. He hasn't officially made it a deadline, but he thinks the idea of him being a father to a young child at that age is laughable."

Russell ordered a martini from the bartender, deciding to make this his last. "You're definitely not drunk if you can pull out words like laughable."

"Now what about you?" Kain asked.

"Fine, you got it right." The martini was set in front of him, and Russell immediately pulled out the olive. "But I do miss him. I'll just be damned if one person can say I didn't show how much I do or wasn't completely faithful the big guy." He ate the olive. "Because I have on both counts."

0o0o0o0

Roy found Ed with his ear st the wall that ran between the children's bedrooms.

"Are we spying on our children now?" Roy asked, running his hand over Ed's hair.

"I want to find out what's going on."

"I don't know that you will. Did you notice that Nicholas lined all his furniture along the wall beside Aideen's room so she couldn't transmute the wall to get through?"

Ed leaned against Roy. "I did." He sighed. "What are we going to do about them?"

"Obviously find another therapist."

Roy grunted as Ed smacked him in his stomach. "That wasn't what I meant. What if this is too much? They've always been so close, but this…"

"They've fought before, Ed." Roy kissed the top of the blond head.

"Not like this, Roy. Al and I never fought like this. Even when he'd thought I'd made him up, faked his body, it wasn't anything like this."

From within the rooms, there was a noise: Aideen speaking.

"Nicholas?"

"Go away, Aideen. I've blocked my wall from you." That was Nicholas.

"I'm… I'm sorry about what happened." That last bit was said quietly.

"Go to bed, Aideen. I'll talk to you later. Just not now."

"I'll hold you to that, Nicholas."

"Well, with being grounded for two weeks," Roy said as he pulled Ed tightly into his arms, "they'll have plenty of opportunities to talk." Ed looked up at Roy, for just a moment, eyes so upset, so lost, there was a reminder of just how young Ed was when he became a parent, how inexperienced he was in things in his own life. "We'll figure this thing with Aideen out together. She's strong, and we don't give up on anything."

Already, Roy had talked to every expert and parent he could trust. There had to be some answer to Aideen and Nicholas, some way to deal with all this, and somewhere, someone had to have that answer.

He craned his neck down, gently pressing his lips to Ed's, fingers combing at the side of his husband's hair in a comforting gesture. He wasn't entirely sure himself, and seeing Ed this shaken wasn't helping, but if he could at least bring some confidence back in those honey-colored orbs, it would help.

"I know we will," Ed said, running a comforting hand down Roy's cheek. "And don't think you have to be the strong one, got it? You have ideas or concerns, tell me just like you make me tell you."

"Yes, Sir," Roy answered as he stood for a few moments, holding Ed tightly to himself.

0o0o0o0

**_Munich _**

"Frau Eckhart," Hohenheim said, entering the woman's office. "I had a question concerning recent activity. It may be overstepping my bounds, but I wonder is all of this necessary for just another attempt at opening the Gate?"

There was a part of the man that felt like it died each and every time he kowtowed to the woman.

"It isn't overstepping the bounds of our most willing and talented member to ask such a question." She smiled at him. Though it disgusted Hohenheim to no end, he knew the woman was attracted to him. On more than one occasion, when she'd be exceptionally kind to him or show her obvious interest, he'd shuddered, nearly visibly at the thought. "Our contact on the other side sent me a letter last week. We have finally agreed on a date to open the Gate to Shamballa, and we have a few months in which to prepare a full assault force.

"To open the gate will require a blood sacrifice. I am considering that Tucker. He's become almost useless, wallowing in self-pity. I would use the arrogant Brit, but Herr Mustang is a rather powerful alchemist once he enters that chamber."

She smiled as Hohenheim struggled not to visibly pale at the idea of this woman and her weapons crossing through the Gate and putting his family at risk.

"Speaking of Mustang, would you be so kind as to remind the man of exactly why he's here and what he's putting a risk with his recent rebellious nature? I certainly don't want to waste him by feeding him to the serpent, but I am equally certain he wouldn't be pleased if I had to resort to other measures."

That thought brought yet another chill to the man's spine. He knew that those measures would be to go after the British man's family, family that on Amestris was technically Hohenheim's own.

The gray-haired man nodded to Eckhart before leaving the room to go to the holding area where the prisoners, all state alchemists in his world, were held captive.

He passed by two blond American brothers, both farmers and very capable with plants, by the once strong miner who was having another teary conversation with his stepson—Phillip had found ways to get into the holding area under pretenses of cleaning it—by the former bishop's cell, who no longer occupied it as he was now a willing participant in all of this, by Tucker who still mourned his wife and daughter's deaths. Finally, he stopped at the single cell where a set of angry black eyes watched his every move.

"What the hell do you want?"

"To relay the message that Eckhart knows exactly how to make you suffer. Even more than this. I think she's located your family in London. Do not put it above that woman to harm them, because she will more than willingly do it."

The black eyes grew wide. "And instead, I'm to help a group that plans to level my country, my family's home with the knowledge that my assistance would give them?" He shook his head. "I can't…"

"Consider all options, Roy," Hohenheim said, afraid to divulge more, afraid that another would turn to the Thules as Kimblee had.

"For the first time in my life," he answered, "I am."


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49 **

_**Couples and Interaction **_

_**Three months later**_

Nicholas stood in the hall, waiting on Victor, but entertaining himself while he did. He tucked a strand of red hair behind the ear of the girl a year behind him. She giggled and blushed.

"Tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." She curled a finger at him. He leaned down and kissed her gently, cupping her cheek with his right hand. She smiled again as their lips parted, waving to him as she left.

"How the hell do you do that?" Victor asked.

"What?"

"Get a girl to just… I don't know…"

"Melt?" Nicholas asked with a knowing grin.

"Oh, don't be so damned smug, Nicholas." Victor grabbed the blond by his automail arm. "Come with me. I want you to see this."

Victor pulled Nicholas into a janitor's closet. "Victor, whatever you want to show me, I've probably seen before," the alchemist said suggestively.

"Stop being a pervert." Victor said, shutting the door and turning on the light. "I mean this." He unfolded a mimeographed sheet of paper. "They rate us."

A blond eyebrow raised itself as an automail started scanning the list for himself, looking somewhere around the middle—he'd lost some of his popularity after publicly coming out as bi.

"Oh, look closer to the top." Victor then muttered, "Bastard."

Nicholas's smirk turned into a full-out smile as he saw himself at number one.

"Hmm. I'm guessing scale of one to ten. Butt: 10," Nicholas glanced over his shoulder at his backside. "Body: 9." He looked down at the thing that probably lost him that point at his left. "Kissing: 10, dear lord a ten."

"It doesn't say that…" Victor snatched the paper from him. "Holy shit, it says that."

"You're just jealous because you got a…" Nicholas looked at the paper. "Oooh, damn, Victor. Sorry about that."

"A two! They gave me a two!"

"I'm sorry, man." It was all the young Mustang could do not to laugh at his friend's expense. "Look, maybe when he's home on break next month, Phillip can help to set you up with someone to give you practice with who has more experience and isn't at this school."

"Oh, yeah, exactly what I need, people at the military academy knowing I suck too."

With that, Nicholas grabbed Victor's face and pulled the other teen to his lips. "Well, I've figured out your problem, Victor," Nicholas said as his friend sputtered. "You don't kiss back. You just kind of hold your lips to someone."

"I kiss back when it isn't my _male_ friend trying to do it." Nicholas laughed, watching his friend root through his pockets for any form of mint he could round up.

0o0o0o0

Frank kept his eyes open to watch as Kain began to grow erratic above him, eyes twisting in concentration, hips pumping with no definite rhythm. When they did this, Frank tried not to think about his age or how sore he'd be. All he thought about was the sensation of his husband inside of him, his legs on either side of the smaller man's neck, Frank's hands fisting the pillow behind him, two careful hands rubbing over Frank's own soaked body.

Frank began moaning as his husband thrust harder into him, while Kain was leaning down to kiss at the taller man's neck, pushing Frank's legs to his chest. Their sweat slicked bodies moved against one another as Frank thrust against Kain, pushing the younger man further inside of him. Kain continued to ram down, Frank finally reaching a hand between them, the friction to his member not quite enough. He could feel Kain was getting closer, as the grunts above him turned into near howls, all timidity gone as his hand joined Frank's and the sounds of skin smacking against skin grew louder.

"Kain," Frank said. "Oh, Kain, ah… harder!"

"Frrrank," Kain said in a near growl.

That voice, that sound… Frank found his eyes rolling to the back of his head, the hand not working on his own cock now scratching down Kain's back.

"Oh, damn, Fraaank!" With that, Frank felt his insides being filled with that familiar warm, wet substance.

"O shit! Bloody… Shit!" Frank yelled as he came, Kain still riding out his own orgasm inside of the older man's body.

Kain removed himself from Frank's body, rolling them both on their sides, arms around one another.

"Happy birthday, Frank."

"I love you, Kain," Frank said, rubbing over his husband's back, feeling something slightly different from the cooling sweat. "Kain, you're bleeding. I'm so sorry," the older man said, shifting himself to look at Kain's back. "I scratched you."

Kain attempted to look over at the somewhat deep scratches. Frank felt terribly guilty. Even bottoming, he couldn't seem to keep from hurting the gentle man, and after all, hadn't the fact that he was paranoid about hurting Kain been one of the reasons that kept him from regularly topping?

Kain felt the strong yet soft arms pulling him closer. "It will heal, but I doubt even that miracle salve you hold onto like a bar of gold won't keep you from being sore all night and tomorrow." Kain kissed Frank soundly. "Ed calls that equivalent exchange."

Then, the smaller man nuzzled his way beneath Frank's chin, curling up against him, only long enough to feel boneless and sated in one another's arms before he let Frank go to the shower. The man, with his still-black but quickly thinning hair, kissed his husband on his forehead before pulling his arms from around the softer body. He moved from the bed, a pleased and satisfied smile spread widely on his face. He made his way to the bathroom, limping quite a bit—Kain was absolutely right, that salve wasn't going to work on fixing all of the aches from their pre-birthday party activities.

Cracking his back, Frank looked back at Kain before opening the bathroom door. The smaller man was seated at the edge of the bed, putting his glasses back over those big chocolate-brown eyes, and for a moment, he looked just a bit sad.

"Kain?" Frank went back to the bed, sitting carefully beside the smaller man. "Want to tell me what's wrong, Love? I'm a bit messy here, and could use for a shower."

Kain looked up at him, eyes smiling at the use of the little-used nickname, but almost immediately shook his head. Though Frank had his moments, Kain was by far more emotional than he was, particularly after sex. Despite the fact that the older man could practically feel the remnants of their lovemaking drying on his body, he put an arm around Kain, kissing him gently on the temple.

"It's just…" Kain sighed. "You've been so good to me, for me, and I've been pushing you so hard this year on the children issue. I'm so sorry."

"You think I don't want one, too?"

"It's just that I've been pushing... You'd said about being fifty and a parent and I thought…"

"You thought you only had a year left?" Despite himself, Frank was chuckling, earning an angry glare from his husband. "And if we adopted a child this year, do you think I'd have said we needed to get rid of her on my fiftieth birthday?"

Kain opened his mouth, gaping a bit like a fish, then closing his mouth once again, eyebrows meeting in a V at the center of his forehead.

"Kain, I think midnight feedings and chasing after a toddler might be out of the question, but I've never meant that about a child." He took Kain's hand as he stood from the bed. "We're both gross. Let's get in the shower."

As the smaller man rose and made his way to the bathroom, he smiled up, looking as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "After your party, I'd love a repeat performance, maybe switching up the roles."

With a sigh that made it sound like an inconvenience, Frank pulled the other man's hand to his mouth, kissing the back. "I suppose. You know I'll do anything for you."

0o0o0o0

Fletcher was on the roof of his apartment building, tending to his plants, looking them over and realizing he had started a rather embarrassing collection of the Little Fire flowers. He certainly wasn't helping the argument that he didn't have feelings for the girl for whom it was named.

Clad in nothing more than a pair of cotton pants and gray tennis shoes, he ran a hand through his always tussled blond hair, looking over what he needed to do. A few of the plants needed a little alchemic pruning, others needed transplanted to larger pots. Preferring the option of getting his hands dirty and having the feeling of the rich black soil between his fingers, Fletcher chose to do the transplanting. He grabbed some of the clay pots Aideen had made for him, deciding it was best to put her flowers into those, an unconscious smile on his face as he looked at the red and orange flower. Somewhere in the middle of both putting the plants into the large terracotta pots and remembering the nervous blush on her face when she'd given them to him for his birthday, he stopped.

He liked Aideen. Had for a long time.

And worst of all, he would eventually have to admit to his older brother that he'd been right.

"Fletcher?" a familiar voice startled him. "I hope you don't mind. I used the key you gave me."

He looked over his shoulder at the black-haired teenager and her guard, suddenly becoming very aware that his thin upper body was completely uncovered.

"Of course I don't mind, Aideen," he said, watching as she walked over, wearing a black tank top, black pants, and black boots—as though that was any surprise. "If you want some alchemy practice, some of the rose bushes could use pruning and guiding."

Aideen nodded, kneeling beside him, closing her eyes, hands on her black-clad knees. From his studying in the east, Fletcher knew it wasn't uncommon for some alchemists to have to practice meditation, particularly as a teenager when emotions and hormones run amok, but from what he understood, Aideen's need to do this each and every time should have been decreasing rather than increasing. But, then again, dark or negative thoughts were pretty explainable considering the deteriorating relationship between the twins and the still undiscovered source of the doll from the zoo.

Fletcher did his best to continue his planting, trying to ignore the steady rise and fall of the teen's chest, trying not to feel like an enormous pervert. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her draw the red bottom lip into her mouth as she concentrated, then let it slide back out slowly as she relaxed, her mascara and black-lined eyes looking more at ease in their closed position. He tried not to notice that the girl had actually put the faintest bit of gold eye shadow on, or that her hands looked thin and flawless as they remained on her knees. And he tried to avert his eyes as her own opened.

With ease, she rose to her feet and began alchemically manipulating the plants into more presentable and managed shapes, all the while the older man tried to remember his work. Together they labored in silence, occasionally with the awkward bump of their hands—hers were so smooth, why had he never noticed that before?—or a faint smile. Silence was not uncommon, as Fletcher never wanted to disturb Aideen's work, but now, it seemed to speak volumes.

Then, as he was done and had washed his hands, he didn't think as he alchemically removed a flower from one of the "little fire" plants and tucked it into her dark hair. He watched her fair skin match the red hue of the flower. He reminded himself not allow his hand to linger for too long.

"Oh!" she said, suddenly, making Fletcher almost behave like burned as he retracted his hand. "It's nearly time for Frank's birthday party." She looked down at her shirt. "I'm a mess. I should have left at least a half hour ago."

"Aideen," Fletcher said. "Can you transmute clothes like your father?"

"Well, yeah…"

"Come with me." He grabbed her hand, trying to ignore as the guard winked at him when they passed. Apparently the all-knowing woman had noticed their interaction. She went into his living room which led directly out to the roof garden while Fletcher took Aideen into the bedroom, wisely leaving the door open; he wouldn't be accused of anything unforward.

He opened his closet door. "Help yourself to what you see." Aideen went to the closet, looking through his shirts. With a faint smirk, he said, "You won't find a black shirt in there."

She looked at him, as though trying to argue. "Why not the green? I bet it would look nice with your eyes."

He walked out of the room at that, looking smug but feeling incredibly awkward. He could have gone a very long time without realizing his feelings for her.

Yet, when she came into the livingroom clad in a pair of his black pants and an emerald green shirt, she just stood and pointed at him, mouth open.

"I said you wouldn't find black in my closet. Not that I didn't have one." He grinned at her as he stood in brown pants, a brown and black tie and a black shirt. "But I was right about the green. Very nice with your complexion."

She blushed at the compliment. "Come on, we need to head to the party."

0o0o0o0

Roy and Ed sat at the long table in the restaurant, handing Frank a birthday present.

"Where's Aideen?" the older man asked, blue eyes searching the group of friends.

"She was at Fletcher's, and her guard said she should be along soon," Ed answered with a smile.

Roy glared at him. Ed only wrapped an arm around his husband's waist. Roy didn't like the idea of his little girl dating Fletcher. When Ed had told Roy that the guard had called to let them know she felt their daughter needed some additional time with the older man, Roy had reacted so violently against it, Ed had practically dragged the reason out of him.

Apparently, Fletcher was a threat that Phillip had never been, maybe because Roy feared his daughter had similar tastes for older men that her dad had, or because the older blond shared interests with their daughter. Any of these reasons made perfect sense, but the one that had been confessed earlier that evening only showed that the older father was hurt; Roy had admitted it bothered him more that the younger Tringham so easily got Aideen's trust when no one else could.

Ed scratched at his husband's back as he watched his son casually and fluidly manage to flirt with one of the waitresses, one who was probably three or four years older than him. He looked up at Roy, remembering when he had once seen his husband behave the same way. He didn't like to admit how often he'd felt pride that he'd been the person to make him settle down. Roy got to be smug about a lot as fuhrer and just as a naturally arrogant person, but Ed got to feel that way about his husband.

Not that there wasn't pride over his children, but there was a certain ego boost to knowing you got Amestris's playboy to marry you and stay faithful—that last part almost more than the first.

Ed was talking to Frank about his next birthday being the big one when he felt the arm around his shoulders tighten.

"Ed," Roy said at his side. "Look."

Ed looked beyond Frank to see Fletcher Tringham walking through the door, Aideen at his side dressed in something that wasn't black. She didn't look happy to be seen in that, but Fletcher seemed to be coaxing her inside the restaurant.

More shockingly of all was that she was listening.

Ed looked at what she was wearing, obviously something modified from Fletcher's clothing. She looked very pretty in the jewel-toned green, a blush to her cheeks that was obviously from more than the faint pink rouge she put on in the mornings.

Slowly, Fletcher moved through the gathering of friends and family, Russell practically winking and nudging him to death, Wrath smacking Russell on the back of his head. All the while, Aideen remained by his side.

"How is it that boy managed that miracle?" Roy asked.

"First of all, he's hardly a boy," Ed said. "Secondly, I'd guess he didn't give her much of a choice."

When Fletcher finally reached the two fathers, Ed couldn't help but wonder if the plant alchemist got a chill from the cold shoulder Roy was giving him. Lips pursed together, Ed grabbed hold of the excess flesh at Roy's side—which the older man was growing very sensitive of—and pinched. Hard.

It earned Ed a quick glare, but Ed only returned it. Really, by now, Roy should have known the effect of those looks didn't work on him, but far be it from Ed to remind him of that at this moment. Besides, he _had_ just squeezed the man's love handle, so Roy was justified in glaring a bit. Ed also knew that when Roy went into defensive father mode, it was very hard to dissuade him, and defensive, hurt father mode was no better. After all, they hadn't managed to get Aideen to wear anything other than black for the last year and a half, but here she was with Fletcher looking very pretty in green.

"This is a nice change," Frank said, apparently having grown a bit uncomfortable with the silence.

"He tricked me," Aideen said to the floor.

"Tricked you?" Roy said, chest puffing out a bit, making Ed contemplate pinching him again. This was Fletcher, not some pervert like, well, his older brother or hers.

"It wasn't a trick. Her clothes were dirty from the garden, it was getting late, and when she went to my closet to find something to transmute, I told her she wouldn't find a black shirt there. It was the truth." Aideen's fiery hazel eyes narrowed at Fletcher. "I already had it hanging on my bathroom door to wear tonight."

"Sounds like a trick to me," Aideen said, again to the floor, her cheeks burning. If there was one thing Ed knew his daughter didn't like, it was being one-upped by anyone, but the most unlikely of people had managed to fool the girl who grew up around a very clever and occasionally manipulative papa and the biggest prankster in the country, who was currently getting all the wait staff's phone numbers.

0o0o0o0

Russell could be a sadistic bastard, and Wrath knew it. Hell, it was part of what he liked about the man, but really, the blond could have stopped eating his food so seductively any time now. Then again, if Wrath wasn't a bit of a sadist himself, he wouldn't be in this position today, painfully turned on by the items Russell insist he wear and remain discreet about, if he hadn't done the same thing to the older man a few nights ago.

As the painful twinges to his memories of Edward were fading, Wrath sometimes found himself baffled at the idea that his first relationship could have been so tame and tentative yet this one so raw and kinky. Aside from inflicting real pain on one another—a kink neither man could truly get into unless it was part of a fight before sex, which they rather enjoyed—Wrath sometimes thought they'd tried everything. He was also more than aware that the fact that their relationship had started based on seeking pleasure and knocking one another senseless, the Elric brothers and Fletcher seemed a bit concerned that it might end badly.

Looking up at the smirking steely green eyes as he ate yet another bite of the mashed potatoes, which Wrath swore he purposely ordered with white gravy, the younger man considered it still might end badly if the man continued this way.

Wrath glanced down the table at Frank and Kain, who sat, hands clasped, eating off of one another's plates. Kain looking as though he didn't want to finish the fried chicken wing Frank obviously wasn't touching. Wrath knew Kain was somewhat conscious of his weight, despite the fact that since he had become permanently stationed with his husband, he'd lost about twenty pounds. Frowning a bit at his younger husband, Frank merely picked the thing up, placing it on Kain's plate and whispered something in his ear that brought a bit of color to the rounded cheeks. Kain rubbed the birthday boy's cheek and kissed the bridge of his nose before picking up the brown-battered food.

Nearby, Nicholas was carrying on a conversation about chess with Breda, all the while flashing smiles at the young waitress serving them, then at the busboy who looked a bit closer to his age.

Aideen had remained quiet most of the night, but it seemed that every time she or Fletcher reached for anything, they ended up bumping fingers or hands together, her cheeks going red, a nervous smile spreading across his face. Sitting where he was, Wrath grinned, himself, at the obvious sign that Fletcher had realized Russell wasn't trying to randomly tease him about Aideen, but that the little signs of his feelings for the teenage girl had been there for a long time. Though, while Russell teased Fletcher about trying to make a move on the girl, Wrath had a bit more faith in the younger brother, sure he'd take things slow and at a pace that was best for the young Mustang.

The eldest Mustang sat across from her long-time boyfriend, nagging him a bit about his food choices all the while he smiled and nodded with practiced skill. Jean and Gracia had apparently had a recent fight and were patching things up, but they seemed happy all the same even though they were more quiet than usual. He watched little James Havoc and all three of the elder Elric children chatting together, not failing to notice that Sasha was watching the blue-eyed boy just a bit more closely than her brother and sister. Rose and her husband looked somewhat less pleased, as she still didn't approve of her son entering the military academy or the fact that it was her husband's "glorious" speeches that had driven him there. This argument had been a long-standing one, one which many suspected might lead to the very first Armstrong divorce. Just down from them, little Alex and the two youngest Elrics were discussing their "stinky" teacher who gave them way too much homework.

Then there was the couple who had their movements down to a routine seated at the end of the table opposite Frank and Kain. Ed grabbed a roll and buttered it, handing half to his husband, while Roy got the salt and pepper, finished using them and set them in front of Ed. There was a casual ease to which the two interacted, one which came from a long-standing relationship that despite its arguments and playful nature, was solidly built on common understanding and survival.

As he was watching Ed and Roy perform their little culinary ballet, Wrath found his left hand was now in someone else's and a pair of lips at his palm. He turned and looked at his left to the man still holding his hand and smiling up at him. This wasn't the smirk of knowing exactly what Wrath had beneath his boxers or that they'd be removing the complicated straps and plug the moment they got back to the apartment. This was a smile that always accompanied the gentle kiss to the palm, one that, even obscured by the older man's rebellious hair that fell into his eyes, said the words Russell so often claimed he never felt he said often enough to the larger man.

Wrath didn't care if he heard them daily or if they remained something expressed wordlessly. He'd been through enough to worry about tallying things like that.

0o0o0o0

Dante observed the happy gathering with some caution. While she could smile broadly at the brat and his fuhrer and never be suspected, she didn't like to meet a pair of large coal black eyes or emerald green. More than anyone else in that restaurant, even all of Amestris, those two seemed acutely aware of her, even if they didn't know it was her they were aware of. Still, it wouldn't matter for long. She could count down the days until the worlds merged.

It would take a blood sacrifice to open the Gate long enough and wide enough to allow the Germans passage through. She was more than aware of that, but once they did come through, in order to gain mastery over the other world's technology, she would need to be more powerful, powerful enough to open and close the Gate on her own.

But the plans for that were already in the works. She just needed to give things a bit more time.

0o0o0o0

Really, Roy didn't think it was possible for Ed to manage both pieces of automail on top of him at once, but he was very wrong. The younger man seemed certain to crush him beneath the weight of the steel limbs.

Roy tried to be mad at Ed for sleeping practically on top of him, just as he'd tried to stay mad at him for pinching that damned fat that wouldn't go away at his side, but he couldn't make it last. Ed was back to researching and wasn't spending every waking moment in the lab. He wasn't sleeping in the cot out there or crashing on the sofa long before he made it to their bedroom. Ed was asleep and now sighing contentedly as his body meshed itself to Roy's, and the left hand, which was attached to the only limb not on top of Roy at the moment, was curling itself into Roy's head of steely hair.

Waving a flag of defeat, Roy wrapped his arms around the thirty-three year old who honestly believed it was a good idea for their daughter to spend time around Fletcher Tringham, who was a terrible alchemy geek, who weighed about three tons, who was obsessive compulsive when it came to protecting their children, who was undoubtedly and unequivocally the most irritating and infuriating alchemist to cross Roy's path.

Who was, without question or doubt, completely Roy's.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50 **

**_Bad Decisions _**

****

**_One Month Later_**

Nicholas and Victor stood at the game room at the Armstrong mansion, Phillip making one hell of a shot at the pool table.

"So, how's the Academy?" Victor asked.

"Going well enough. I'm having problems because I'm an Armstrong but not, but aside from that, doing well." Phillip lined himself up for another shot. "How has Aideen been?"

"Angry, bi-polar, I don't know," Nicholas said, shaking his head. "She'd actually worn green at Fletcher's request…" Nicholas paused, shaking his head, only half-noticing as his long-time friend scratched. "My turn."

"You said, Fletcher requested her to wear something else?" Phillip said, moving away from the pool table. "And she listened?"

Nicholas only shrugged. "He didn't give her a lot of choice. He had on his only black shirt, and she took his green one." Thankfully, he managed to get the thirteen ball into the right corner pocket.

"Why did she wear his shirt?" Phillip asked, eyes wide.

"Because they'd just had hot sex," Victor chimed in as he threw a dart, missing the bull's-eye by quite a bit.

"What!"

"Because she was working in the garden with him and had to get to Frank's birthday party." Nicholas missed his shot, frowning as he did. "For shit sake, Phillip, you've been jealous of that man for going on three years, and in that time, nothing's happened between them. Still hasn't."

"It hasn't?"

"Nope. I think Russell thought it would, but my sister's a downright recluse now." He shook his head as Phillip lined up the three ball to the left center pocket. "I sometimes wonder how we're even related. I'm a social creature by nature."

"Too social. I can't find a damned date because all the girls have something planned with you."

Nicholas laughed in that sort of devilish way he had.

"Really, though," Victor said, pulling the darts from the board, "I wonder sometimes, Phillip, what your obsession is with Aideen. I mean she's hot to look at, but I think if you got to close to her, you might get frostbite." He looked Nicholas in the eyes. "No offense, but it's the truth."

Reluctantly, Nicholas nodded. Though, icy really didn't describe her lately. She'd been moody and distant, though their fights decreased except for the few occasions when that falsely pleasant persona appeared.

"Listen, don't worry yourself about my sister," Nicholas said. "You go back to the academy tomorrow. When you do, enjoy yourself there."

0o0o0o0

Ed looked through the library, the place where Aideen had holed herself up for the last month. After what went on with Fletcher, Ed had assumed it would just be a matter of time before she was dating the older man, or that at least, they'd see an improvement in her behavior.

Instead, his daughter had become more withdrawn, avoiding everyone. She no longer wanted out in public, didn't visit Fletcher, and only tolerated the company of her own family. The only time she left the house was when it was to visit her therapist, one that seemed to be doing very little better than Dr. Zacharias had. She'd detached herself completely, and Ed was at a loss. He didn't know how to deal with this, and nothing he tried seemed to work. There were nights, when he let himself think about it, that he go so frustrated that angry tears ended up running down his cheeks. Other times he spent wanting to yell at his daughter, to force her to snap out of it.

Nothing worked.

But for the moment, she had collapsed in near exhaustion upstairs, and he was taking the chance to really look at what she was so intently researching. Ed went through the books sitting on the desk, relatively innocent, though complex still for her age, if not her advanced skill. But then again, he'd seen nearly these same books laid out daily. He knew his daughter well enough to know that these were decoys; he knew because if he were the one doing the studying, they would be decoys for him.

However, it seemed that Aideen had been sloppy in putting away her books, as he found a few bookmarked ones among the papers on the desk. He began stacking the marked books on top of the desk, picking up the first, opening the first book marked page of a book that was all too familiar, and thinking back to his first encounter, he still shuddered to look at it.

"Aideen Riza Mustang!" he yelled out, hearing the noise from directly above as the teen left her room and ran down the steps.

"What is it, Dad?" she asked as he held the book in his shaking hand, though whether it was shaking from fear for his daughter or anger at her, he didn't know.

"What are you doing reading this?" She looked at the book, and he swore he saw the faintest smile on her face. Angrily, he opened up to the first marked page. "'In order for a soul transfer to take place, the receiving vessel must be within the transmutation circle…'" He slammed the book shut. "You have no business reading this. It is forbidden for a reason."

"Right," she said, watching as he pulled out the bookmark, "because it's better in the hands of an inexperienced eleven-year-old than a sixteen-year-old who's seen the consequences."

"You don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly. It was fine for you to know it because it saved Uncle Al, but heaven forbid I learn anything about it."

Ed began removing bookmark after bookmark. "It is dangerous, and you should know better than to question me. I am the parent here."

"Do you think I'm going to be stupid enough to actually lose my arm and leg?" she asked, looking at his two pieces of automail with a smug expression. "Really? Do you think I'm that inexperienced? I might be your daughter, but it doesn't mean I inherited your carelessness."

"Watch you mouth, young lady!" Having had enough, he finally pulled out all of the bookmarks from the pages at once.

"Fuck you!" she said, arms tight and trembling at her side, clenched in fists, eyes on the book.

Before he could think, Ed's left hand made its way to her cheek, smacking with his so hard, it left an almost immediate red mark on her fair skin. "You can spend the rest of the week in your room for that, and you can forget about wearing the coat until you've earned it again."

Storming out into the hall, Aideen clapped her hands and grabbed the red coat Ed had given her. "You mean this one?" And with those words, it turned into a hundred pieces of shredded red fabric.

"Get your ass to your room, right now. I don't want to see or hear from you!" Ed grabbed his daughter's shirt and led her up the stairs.

"Get your hands off me! I HATE YOU!"

When they'd reached the top of the steps, he released her with a bit of a push and she stormed into her room, slamming the door with a look that seemed to say she'd meant those words.

It would be several minutes before the adrenaline wore off, and when it did, Ed found he was nothing more than a shaking mass, somewhere between fury and feeling like his daughter had just ripped his heart out.

"I love you," Russell said from behind Wrath.

"We're supposed to be working," the braided head said, not turning to look at Russell, which he found just a bit rude.

Russell wrapped his arms around the larger man's shoulders. "I meant it."

"I know you did," Wrath said, bringing a hand to Russell's head, which rested atop the black hair. "But you don't have to say it every ten minutes. I believe you."

"I don't say it often enough."

"You do, but in your own way. You show it."

Russell moved his mouth to Wrath's ear. "Can I show you now?"

"I'm serious about working, Russell," Wrath said, violet eyes not leaving his papers.

Russell sat at the corner of the desk and began looking over what Wrath was looking at, only to find himself being pulled onto the taller man's lap. With a smile, they kissed.

"I'm going to have to move into a separate office." Wrath held either side of Russell's face as he covered every inch of skin with his lips until Russell finally moved away and latched himself to the soft skin at Wrath's neck, shifting positions so that he was straddling the younger man's lap. He wrapped his arms around Wrath's neck, enjoying as a moan came from the dark-haired man when Russell drew some of his flesh into his mouth, biting at it and almost certainly bruising it. "Oh, damn… You're too much of a distraction."

Russell only laughed into his lover's neck. He really did love him so much that it hurt, and until this moment, he'd never understood what that meant. Understood how lucky he was every time he saw his brother trying to hide the fact that he now knew his feelings for the teenager who no longer visited him.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher knelt on his rooftop garden, hearing the sound of the main livingroom door opening. He glanced over his shoulder, trying not to smile like a fool when he saw his early evening visitor was Aideen, though he noticed the absence of her guard.

"Fletcher?" she asked.

He stood up, looking at her, seeing something was off. "Aideen, is something wrong?" He wiped his hands on his pants as he stood, only to find his arms full of teenaged girl. "Aideen?"

"I had a fight with Dad." She began sobbing in his arms. "It was a big one."

Fletcher ran a hand over the silky black hair, gently rubbing her back with the other. They stood like that for a few minutes with him whispering comforting words in her ears, trying to remind himself that he needed to be the responsible adult. He needed to call her parents, the guards. But at the moment, all he wanted to do was stop her from crying.

And after some time, she finally did stop, looking up at him expectantly, something still off behind those orbs of gold and brown.

He was about to tell her that he needed to call her parents when he felt her arms wrap around his neck, a set of ruby red lips pressing against his chapped ones. Thought stopped as he held her body close to his own, returning the kiss. He felt her hands moving over his back, felt her lips demanding more from this kiss.

But Fletcher felt that, despite this being what he'd wanted he couldn't take advantage of her, and in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong. He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes, realizing that her hands had untucked the back of his shirt and were now underneath of it, grasping at his back. He pulled away, trying not to resume kissing when he saw her parted lips and clouded, half-lidded eyes.

"Aideen, we can't do this." He looked her in the eyes, seeing full clarity reflected back at him, her entire face turning blood red. She pulled away from him, hand over her mouth. "Aideen, you don't need to be embarrassed."

"I'm so sorry," she said, muffled behind her hand as she ran, faster than Fletcher could catch her out the door, into the apartment and into the hall.

"Aideen!" he called out after her. "Aideen wait!"

To quick for him, Aideen was down the hall and gone before he could catch her. He tried to track her on the steps, knowing she was ahead of him, but she kept her headstart on him. "Wait!" he yelled out, knowing that he shouldn't continue to yell her name. That was too dangerous, given her family and the potential target she could become without her guards to help protect her.

Then he got to the street, looked around and she was gone. With the darkening sky, it was little wonder that the raven-haired, black-clothed teen could vanish in the streets, but Fletcher wanted to make her understand it wasn't a mistake, just poor timing.

"Where are you? Please answer me!"

But there was no response.

0o0o0o0

Kain stood, cooking dinner, feeling something smacking him in the back of the head. He turned around to see if a bug had somehow gotten into the house and glanced for a moment over at Frank, who was breaking up cauliflower.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked.

"I thought I… never mind."

Kain resumed sautéing the chicken and felt it again. This time, he spotted a tiny piece of cauliflower on the floor before he turned.

This time, he grabbed a sliced carrot turned and chucked it at his husband.

"Didn't take you long to figure out I was the one doing it."

"Remind me again… Aren't you the one who's supposed to be older and more mature?"

"I've never claimed that." Frank said, those cool blue eyes grinning up at Kain. In their main room, the phone was ringing, Frank immediately leaping up from the chair. "Not that I wouldn't love to hear you continue telling me how immature I am…"

Kain rolled his eyes and resumed cooking as he heard his husband answer the phone.

"Roy, calm down," Kain heard Frank say from their livingroom. Immediately, the younger man put the pan off the stove. If the fuhrer was upset, then things were bad, very bad.

"What do you mean she's gone?"

Gone? Kain immediately started walking to the bedroom, gathering his and Frank's uniforms. He had a guess who was missing, and if it was her, they'd need to be in uniform leading their men.

"Roy, we'll find her. I see Kain went to get our uniforms now. We'll get some men gathered and start fanning out through the city." There was a pause and a faint sigh. "I know there's no point in saying it, but don't worry. We'll do what we have to find her."

Kain came back out with their uniforms, not even thinking about the fact that he was stripping in the livingroom to put it on.

"Aideen?" Kain asked as he saw Frank hang up the phone.

"Yeah." Frank's hand lingered for a second, another sigh escaping his lips. Kain knew how much his husband cared for the teen, including himself among one of many who tried to bring the girl out of her current funk.

"Well, let's get ready and find her."

0o0o0o0

Phillip was walking outside of Armstrong manor, debating on whether to visit Aideen or not. He really wanted to see her, but he wasn't sure if she'd want to see him. Maybe it would be best if he just moved on from all of this, to stop pining after her like a stupid idiot. He'd assumed she would move on, even assumed it would be with Fletcher Tringham, since they shared a lot of common interests, and he was older and more mature than either Phillip or Aideen.

Still, Nicholas had only just left, and he'd told his friend to have his sister call or stop by before he left for the academy, and really, he couldn't expect her to show up tonight. Certainly not this soon.

Hands in his pockets, he kicked at a rock on the sidewalk. He was being an idiot.

"Phillip?" A tiny voice whispered.

He turned around to the bushes, seeing a bit of pale skin and a set of brown and gold eyes. "Aideen?

Her head poked out from behind the foliage, and he could see she'd been crying. Going back there to be with her, he knelt in the mossy undergrowth, looking her in the eyes. "Aideen, are you okay? What happened?"

And in an uncommon display of emotions, one he'd never seen in his life from his ex-girlfriend, she began to detail a fight with her father.

"I wanted to learn, to understand what's been going on. Nicholas and I are fighting all the time, my parents don't understand me, I just didn't know what to do. That thing at the zoo was made with alchemy, and my dad keeps hiding parts of alchemy from me. I got so angry at him, and I know I hurt him."

Phillip pulled her into his arms, noticing her make-up was a mess, between the black streaks running down her cheeks and her smudged red lipstick, but not caring. She needed someone to be there for her, and if she needed it, he would comfort her.

"Let's go back to the mansion."

"No!" she said sharply, making him pull her away for a moment to look her in the eyes. "I left the house. If your parents see me, they'll call my fathers." She buried her head at his shoulder. "I can't face them yet. Please, Phillip, is there somewhere else? For just a few minutes?"

Pulling her up with him, Phillip stood. "The pool house. We can talk in there."

"Thank you." He took her by the hand, leading Aideen through the back yard, careful of any watching eyes before going inside the pool house. His parents rarely looked there, and he knew it would be well stocked; it always was. He kept the lights low, as he looked around the room where he used to stay as a child. His parents had often used it as an additional guest house outside of the mansion, and it always had a fair amount of food in the kitchenette, a nice sofa and a bed at the rear.

He sat beside Aideen, letting her pour her heart out to him, or at least, letting her tell him her story until the point she left her house. She told him her concerns, her fears, her anger. For the first time since he'd known her, nothing was masked.

He hadn't even paid attention to how long they'd been there, when he found his ex-girlfriend kissing at his neck.

"Aideen, what are you doing?"

"The arguments, the situation in Central, the attacks, they are all getting worse, Phillip. I thought… Well, I thought something might make it better, and it didn't. Something's after me. I know it. What if it… before…" She looked up into Phillip's eyes. "Please. You've always loved me. I know you have, and I've always cared for you."

"Aideen, this isn't right. I don't know what else happened to you today, but I can't let you…" He found thought leaving him as she began unbuttoning his shirt. "We can't. We shouldn't."

"Please, Phillip."

0o0o0o0

Roy didn't know whether to be furious or sick. For the moment, the fury was winning, deciding that once he found his daughter—and he would, damn it—he would allow the worry and the stomach churning to win. But he hadn't found her yet. He'd gotten a call through to the Armstrong house just a few minutes ago. According to Roy's chief general, his son had gone out for a walk. It was all Roy could hope for that his daughter had found Phillip. At least with him she'd be safe.

Ed was practically frantic, all but attacking everyone who crossed his path, demanding answers. Roy knew enough of the argument he'd had with their daughter, and Ed's worry that his last words to with their daughter would be her telling him that she hated him. But the older man didn't want to consider that thought. Roy had needed to let Maria Ross stick with him, as she seemed the only person capable of keeping him under control. Those two, along with a few of Ross's detail searched some areas of the city standing beside the person he least wanted to be around at the moment.

Fletcher Tringham ran at his side, looking nearly as frenzied as Ed in his search. Apparently, the moment that Aideen had run off from his apartment and he could no longer track her, he'd called Roy and Ed. He had been running around Central trying to find her. When Roy finally found him, he couldn't help but notice the red smear on Fletcher's lips, a smear very similar in color to Aideen's usual lipstick.

When Roy had pointed it out, Fletcher had nervously begun wiping his mouth, but shaking off his unease to try to find Aideen. "Papa," Nicholas said, coming out from an alley with Danny and some of his guards with him. "I'm going to start going back toward the house. Aideen has ways of getting out that even I don't know. She could have gotten back in pretty easily without the guards out front seeing her."

"Send a signal if you find her," Roy instructed his son.

"Dragon?"

Roy nodded, watching as Nicholas ran off.

Together, Roy and Fletcher began analyzing the sides streets.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Fletcher said.

"I'm sure you are. Tell me, how long exactly were you making out with my sixteen-year-old daughter? Because lipstick doesn't get smeared like that if you immediately pull away like a gentleman."

"Would it be better if I was celebrating my thirtieth birthday?" Fletcher asked, sounding just a bit angry.

"Circumstances were different, and you should watch your mouth."

"I know what circumstances were, sir." Fletcher's green eyes met Roy's black. "But understand I am trying to show restraint in regard to someone who I have known for many years. Something was very wrong with her, and I refuse to take advantage of her. But I was no more able to stop myself from enjoying that kiss than you did the first time you and Ed kissed."

Roy nodded, feeling honestly impressed despite still being angry. Though he'd always taken Fletcher for being weak, it was obvious when it mattered the man had a backbone.

0o0o0o0

"Please, Phillip," Aideen said to him as knelt between her legs. For a moment, seeing her eyes so clouded, half lidded, and looking at him, Phillip stopped. She was beautiful with her milky white skin, perfect breasts, dark black curls below a thin, taught belly. And she was asking for him. She wanted him.

He leaned down, feeling her soft hands rubbing over his tan flesh, part of his mind telling him this was wrong, but as that part of his brain had lost all blood to parts south, it wasn't getting much attention.

After all, Aideen was beautiful and his for at least tonight. With a smile, he thought to himself that this could be the start of something much bigger.

"Please," she was practically begging as he lined himself up. Before he could even think to push in, she was moving against him, forcing him inside of her.

His hips jerked as he began to press inside of her meeting resistance, her virginity. But she gripped him harder, pushing him further inside that delicious warmth with a cry.

"Aideen?" He managed to grunt out, looking down at the tears starting to form at her eyes.

"Please," she said with a whimper as his body instinctually began moving, pumping. "Phillip, it hurts."

"Trust me, Aideen."

She bit her lip. "Phillip… ah!" Her body arched, her face twisting.

He wanted this to last longer, to prove to her it would feel better. He knew it would. After all, hadn't he heard the stories at the academy?

Unfortunately, his body wasn't cooperating as he grunted and groaned, her hands now clawing and scratching at his chest somewhere pushing and pulling at him.

"Phillip, oh…"

"Aideen! Oh, Aideen!" And with those thoughts, he released inside of his longtime friend and former—possibly once again renewed—girlfriend.

Sated and boneless, he withdrew, rolling off of her. As quickly as she could, she climbed off of the bed, putting on her clothes.

"Aideen, you can stay. Aideen?"

She shook her head, stuffing her bra back into her pocket and ran from the pool house, Phillip grabbing his pants, running after her into the darkness.

0o0o0o0

When Nicholas finally arrived back at her house, he immediately started searching the house for any sign that his sister was back home. Walking by Aideen's room, he heard the sound of something being set ablaze, felt the familiar power from Aideen's fire alchemy. Before he could enter her bedroom, he heard the sound of the bathroom door shutting, a pile of what appeared to be Aideen's singed clothing. From what he could see, they were some of her favorites.

What had happened?

He heard the sound of the shower in the next room, and what he was certain was sobbing. Quickly as he could, he grabbed his gloves and opened the window. He snapped his fingers creating a large flame dragon that rose quickly above the buildings of Central, one that his fathers would be certain to see.

Then, just as quickly as the thing had appeared, it vanished, Nicholas hoping it was enough for his parents to see as he went to the door of Aideen's bathroom, calling for his sister. Finally, the door opened to the raven-haired teen, face red from crying, though ads he looked at her arms, still bare from the sleeveless nightgown, they looked as though she'd tried to cook them in hot water.

"Nicholas," she said as she grabbed hold of his shoulders and buried her head into them. Tightly, he wrapped his arms around her.

"Aideen, what happened?" She only shook her head against his shoulder. All he could do was hold her up as he guided her to the bed, where she could sit down. "Please tell me."

She only shook her head and curled up in near fetal position on her bed. "I can't."

"Did someone do something to you?"

Aideen paused, and Nicholas laid in the bed opposite his sister as they'd done since childhood. "N-no." And in a moment of weakness that frightened her brother, Aideen curled up to his body and for the first time in their lives she felt small in his arms.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51 **

**_Morning After_**

When Ed and Roy had arrived home, they found the twins curled together on Aideen's bed. It had started as yelling, Aideen saying nothing, just nodding all the while save for an apology and saying she'd roamed following the incident with Fletcher. Nothing more. When Ed looked at her, she looked just as he had felt after their fight: broken. There was a strong part of him that wondered if that look could possibly have come from just the rejection of her former teacher.

Because there was so little to her story, it had made Roy angry, and the yelling grew to a louder decibel. Finally, Ed just put a hand on his husband's arm and told his daughter they'd talk in the morning, while she curled up into her brother's arms again.

Now, they stood in the bedroom they shared, Ed running his left hand over what had once been his red coat.

"Ed, how could you just accept that? She didn't give us any answer. She disappeared for several hours. If something happened to her—"

"She'd told Nicholas nothing had. Maybe she's in shock, maybe she's still upset about our fight…"

"Ed?" Roy said, his voice bringing Ed back.

"Huh?" He shook his head. "Oh. Sorry about that." He untied his hair, shaking out the now-loosened blond strands. "Mind just drifted."

Ed began pulling off his shirt, and he no sooner had it off than he found two strong arms around him. "So, tell me why, after everything, you remade the coat to fit her?"

"Because it's hers now, not mine. I'm just going to wait a while to give it back."

Ed could feel his husband patting his hair, almost as though he was petting Charcoal. "And how are you managing? We never did get to talk after your fight."

At first, all the younger man could do was sigh and allow himself to be led to the bed, where he sat beside his husband, who still had his arms tightly around his shoulders.

"She told me she hated me, and honestly, that stung worse than having my own daughter yell 'fuck you.'"

"You know she didn't mean that."

He shrugged. "You didn't see the way she looked at me. She was so angry. I suppose she feels like I was hiding something from her. And really, I was, all of the adults were."

"And then tonight, when she'd gone missing, you thought that would be your last conversation with her."

He couldn't speak, only nod at his husband's unerringly accurate account of Ed's emotions that night.

"You can't let this make you go soft on her."

"I'm not!" Ed snapped back. "It wasn't that, Roy. It was the look on her face. Did you really look at it when we were talking to her? She didn't look like our Aideen anymore. It wasn't the fire and the passion that I've started to miss from her personality or even that cold, distant way she's had the last year. It was empty. Roy, I don't know what we're going to do, but apparently, what we've been doing simply isn't working. I have a terrible feeling we're going to lose her to whatever it is that's eating away at her."

"We're not going to lose her," Roy said, determinedly. "Neither you nor I will let that happen."

0o0o0o0

Nicholas woke up, at least he though he was awake, still in his sister's bed, but he felt certain he still had to be sleeping because he heard almost pleasant humming coming from the bathroom. He didn't recognize the tune, but it sounded old and chipper. He recognized the sound of his sister's voice as the person creating the tune, melodic and smooth—completely unlike his own—and he felt very confused. He looked around the room, trying to determine whether or not he was still dreaming or he'd been imagining things, imaging the look on his sister's face when he'd found her home last night.

He looked to the corner, finding a few stray ashes that had once been her clothes, though why it possessed her to burn her favorite shirt, pants, and even boots, he'd never quite know. Personally, he thought she was in the middle of mental break-down, especially if she was cheery this morning. Being nosy, he started snooping around, looking through some of the things in her desk drawer, finding arrays he recognized, ones he didn't, or at least didn't without some study. He found books on meditation, making him wonder just how obsessed his sister was with plant and medical alchemy if she was studying "ways to clear the mind and fend off negative energy." He was already aware of his sister's issues in those fields, but honestly, he'd always considered Aideen doing something great with her alchemy.

Problem was, when he saw her sometimes, he wondered just what kind of great it would be, good or bad.

When he saw how unstable she'd become at times, he had to admit that he was angry that she got the attention. It all seemed to stem from, or at least start at, the loss of his arm. If that was true, then why the hell was she the one acting as though she'd had one of her limbs sawed off?

Flexing the automail arm in front of himself, Nicholas looked down at the piece of metal that had replaced flesh and blood. Sure, he missed his real arm, but he had to admit the advantages in battle, not to mention the fact that this only solidified himself as a member of his family. Aideen now was the only member of the four of them that didn't have some sort of automail in her body. And really, the only time the three men in the family complained about theirs was when it would get stuck or busted somehow.

Nicholas grinned to himself, remembering after a particularly dramatic roll of his eyes when his papa's eye had gotten stuck rolled upwards in his head. For the first time in years, the patch had returned until he could take the time to get to an ocular automail mechanic.

Most importantly, though, was that his automail could feel. Unlike his dad, he'd never known a time when it could only detect pressure. Nicholas traced a finger over the small alchemic array at the inside of his elbow joint. If for nothing else, he loved his Uncle Al for this innovation.

The bathroom door opened, Nicholas watching intently as it did.

"Did you finally decide to get up?" Aideen asked. "And are you enjoying what you're seeing in my desk?"

"Is there something you're trying to hide here?" he asked, jet-colored eyes narrowing.

"Not at all, though, I can only imagine what I'd find if I did the same in your room. Perhaps some dirty magazines and some lotion of some sort?" He heard her tsk-ing at him. "You look as though you are getting angry again. You really should control your temper, you know."

"Do you want to share what the hell happened last night?"

"I told our fathers everything that any of you need to know, and now, I'm going to find them and apologize for the mess I caused yesterday. It really was uncalled for."

All Nicholas could do was glare.

0o0o0o0

"Morning," Russell said, looking down at Wrath, whose body was still aching from the previous night's activities.

"Morning you kinky bastard," Wrath said with a grin. "How long have you been awake?"

"Little while."

"Well, you'll have to excuse me because I have to use the facilities." Wrath climbed out of the bed, grunting as he did. "You could have been a little less rough last night. I feel like a giant bruise." He looked down at his body. He looked a bit like it, too, between the lovebites that ran from his neck to his knees and the genuine bruises from a night of harsh lovemaking and a bit of a fight for the night's dominance on the part of the two men.

After Wrath had relieved himself and returned into the bedroom, he saw Russell still laying on the bed, quite nude, yet looking more contemplative than his usually overly horny state.

"There a reason you look lost in thought?" Wrath asked as he climbed back into the bed beside the older blond as carefully as he could because the bruises outside were nothing compared to the soreness coming from his behind at the moment.

"I was just thinking about everything that went on last night."

"You mean Aideen being lost like that?"

"Well, that, and my brother. I mean, maybe I should have just let him figure things out on his own. She's young, and unintentionally, she could really hurt him. Especially as—I don't want to call it this, but I don't know what else to define it as—unstable as she's been lately. I might like to tease Fletcher, but I don't want him hurt."

Wrath put an arm around Russell. "I think him getting hurt by her is the least of his worries if he keeps mouthing off to the fuhrer like he did last night."

"What do you mean?" Russell asked, looking very confused.

"I mean that when Roy got mad last night that your brother kissed Aideen, Fletcher pointed out the age difference between Roy and Ed, and the fact that Ed was the same age, though Roy was older."

Russell sucked air through his teeth creating a sort of hissing sound. "That was very dumb."

"Maybe, but the fuhrer respected it. It proved your brother has a backbone." Wrath smiled over at his boyfriend, glad to see some sign of humanity in the usually quirky man. The concern for his brother was genuine, and in moments like these, far more than any other time in their relationship together, Wrath saw a glimmer of why Russell had once been mistaken for Edward Elric.

He ran a hand down Russell's cheek, finally rubbing over stubble around the man's mouth. "Did you miss something while you were shaving?"

"I thought I'd grow a goatee." Wrath looked down at the blond. "What? Don't like the idea?"

"We'll see." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm just surprised you're asking permission."

"Hey, I think you're a keeper," Russell said, leaning against Wrath's shoulder and pushing his body more tightly to the larger man's side. "I wouldn't want to mess that up by growing facial hair."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Wrath flipped Russell on top of his body. "But you're my idiot."

"All yours and only yours."

"Damned right."

0o0o0o0

When Kain snuck up behind Frank, he hadn't expected the man to react as he did. Admittedly, sneaking up on the former spy had its risks, as an accidental knee to his stomach had proven a year ago, but it wasn't the violent reaction that was such a surprise but what came out of his mouth.

"Lord love a duck!" At that simple phrase, any intimidation Frank Archer might have managed following Kain startling him was gone as the bespectacled man found himself doubled over in laughter, eyes tearing up.

"It isn't funny!" Frank yelled.

"Oh… trust me…" Kain managed between laughs. "It's hysterical. A duck!"

Really, Kain had thought he'd heard all of the phrases from the older man's world, but he had been very, very wrong. He'd already heard him define something very unusual as being "as rare as rocking horse shit," define Kain's penis as a "tadger," which Frank swore was affectionate, not to mention words like "tallywhacker," "percy," and any number of pink items which were interchangeable with the proper name for that organ. Words like bloody and ruddy were common enough that Kain had occasionally slipped and used them, himself.

Yet, this was the first time that in a moment of non-violent surprise, the chief of military investigations had ever requested that a deity bestow affection on a feathered fowl. And when Kain thought of it in that way, an almost Falman or Sheska-like way, it only made him laugh harder.

"Oh, bugger off," Frank said, as he stormed out of their livingroom and into the bedroom, slamming the door in Kain's face.

"Don't be mad, Frank," Kain said. "It was just funny. It was so…" Kain searched for the right word, because ones like un-macho and girly would almost definitely ensure there'd be no sharing that bedroom later that night. "So, not like you."

"It's a saying my mother used to use."

"I didn't mean to laugh, Frank," Kain said, trying to withhold any mirth from his voice. "I thought I'd heard them all by now, and that one was new to me."

"Again, I say, bugger off!"

Kain shook his head, trying to remind himself that despite their most common roles in the bedroom, he was usually the one pulling the more effeminate moments in their relationship. Hearing his husband pout in the next room, Kain could think of another word that would certainly mean his denial of sex for a week: Diva.

"Frank, come on out…" closing his eyes to a squint, Kain struggled to remember one of those obscene phrases that Frank occasionally left out. Just one that might act as a peace—or piece, depending on how you looked at it—offering. "Come out and maybe I'll take a shot at… smoking the pink oboe."

From within the bedroom, there was loud laughter, and the doorknob turned. "It's smoke the pink cigar or play the pink oboe, not both." He grabbed Kain's face in his hands and kissed him. "You are a ridiculous little man, do you know that?" He kissed him again. "But I appreciate your attempt."

0o0o0o0

Roy heard the gentle rapping on the door, waking him from his sleep. He realized he'd slept in most of his uniform through the night, laying atop the comforter, Ed still in his pants and undershirt, their arms wrapped tightly around one another.

"Papa, Dad, can I come in?" Aideen asked.

"Ed," Roy whispered in the smaller man's ear. "Ed, time to wake up. Aideen's outside the door."

Roy watched as two still-young-looking amber eyes opened, looking just a bit cloudy from recent sleep. Ed grunted, slowly releasing his hold on Roy, as Roy did the same.

"Come in, Aideen," Roy said, his voice stern despite having just woke up.

His daughter slowly entered the room, looking at the two men on the bed, something flashing across her eyes so fast that Roy didn't quite catch it. Then almost immediately, she became apologetic and could hardly manage to look either of the two men in the eyes. Behind her, from the doorway, Roy could see Nicholas glowering at her.

"It was stupid of me, I know." She said, hands folded in front of her. "I got angry because you know how much I want to learn about alchemy. I just kept thinking about what I would do if something happened to Nicholas. I know I'd do the same thing you did, Dad."

Again, Nicholas looked at her angrily, rolling his eyes.

"The point is that you should never have to do those things," Ed said. "And even if you felt you had to, there's no guarantee that you would manage to survive saving him."

"And that certainly doesn't explain running off last night," Roy added, looking severely at his daughter.

"I was angry, and there's no excuse for it. I went to see Fletcher because I thought he would understand, but instead, I made a fool out of myself. I roamed the streets for a while, then came home."

"And why were you so upset last night?" Ed asked, apparently the look in their daughter's eyes the night before still nagging at him.

"I don't think it's any secret that I like Fletcher, and I think I might have ruined whatever might have happened. I also felt very bad that I'd said those things to you, Dad. I didn't mean them. And I will apologize to everyone who searched for me, if I have to, in order to make things right for running off last night."

"You understand you're still going to be grounded for a very long time?" Roy asked.

"I wouldn't expect anything less for the way in which I behaved."

"I accept the apology, Aideen, but you have to learn that sometimes I keep information from you for your own safety."

Aideen nodded.

"I just wish that things could be more like this," Ed said. "That you could behave more like this."

"It certainly makes it easier," Roy said. "We don't like to fight with you all the time, Aideen. Why can't you try to be more level-headed and calm like you are now?"

"I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure I am like this more often."

"You can go back to your room now. When we have breakfast ready, we'll call you back downstairs," Roy said, rising from the bed, grateful that he didn't have anything drawing him to work that day.

Again, a nod, then she turned and left, Nicholas muttering behind her. "You're one hell of an actress."

0o0o0o0

**Munich**

"Frau Eckhart," one of the woman's most trusted members said to her. "Our people have located them in London."

"Ah, very well done."

"Do you want to have me order their capture?"

"Not just yet. A woman and two teenagers will be easy enough to catch. I'd rather have them still in shock, have him still in shock to see them here when they unwillingly help us with our plans. Let's give the remaining members of his brood a few more weeks of ignorant bliss before we rip it out from beneath them."


	52. Chapter 52

_A/N: I'm fairly sure you will all want to kill me after this chapter. Character Death, both major and very minor. And we're only one chapter away from the identity of Dante._

**Chapter 52 **

**_Coming to Fruition _**

****

**_Two Months Later_**

Nicholas stood in the little restaurant with Aideen at his side. Today was a good day for them, at least as far as he was concerned. Admittedly, she was far too quiet to suit him, none of her usual light teasing there, but the nasty, sugar-coated side to her personality wasn't showing itself. For Nicholas, that made it a good day to be with his sister.

He was loathe to admit it, but in all honesty, Nicholas Mustang both loved his sister unquestionably and yet, hated her—a fact he was surprised to blurt out to their new therapist two weeks before. Even like this, quiet and introspective, cold and closed off, he loved her and knew he'd do anything for her. Yet, when that persona of hers came out, that side of her that felt so unnatural, so false, he hated her more than he could begin to explain.

And he got angry at his parents sometimes, too, because he felt they couldn't see through the act. They wouldn't let her buy new clothes after having incinerated her favorites following the whole incident two months ago, an action Nicholas still didn't think was explainable as part of her temper tantrum that day. They told her repeatedly they preferred when she was better behaved, and better behaved meant being that false thing that Nicholas despised.

But as he stood beside her, trying to get her attention by squeezing her wrist, he couldn't help but notice her entire body had gone rigid.

"Aideen?" he asked. Finally, he felt her scramble to put herself behind him, her left hand clenching his left at the flesh upper-arm. "Aideen, what is it?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see his sister's eyes still devoid of that fire he missed so much, but this time holding near terror in their hazel depths. This was no act, he was sure, and if he wasn't sure, the only flesh part of his left arm was certain, since she was making five neat, round bruises with her fingertips. Aideen was frightened, and Nicholas wanted to find out why. He followed her gaze to a curly-haired man in the crowd, one Nicholas recognized almost instantly.

"Please, Nicholas, can we get out of here?"

"Miss Mustang?" one of the guards asked. "Is there a threat present we're unaware of?"

"N-no," she stammered. Nicholas felt his chest clench. He'd never heard his sister so caught up in any emotion that it affected her ability to speak, save for that night a few months before.

"Nicholas!" A happy voice said from the crowd, and Nicholas felt Aideen shrink behind him. Phillip made his way through the somewhat crowded café, smiling at Nicholas, and apparently making just enough eye contact with Aideen that it made him blush.

"So, you're on break from the academy?"

"For a few days."

"Hello, Aideen." That look in Phillip's eyes was at once the familiar longing for something affectionate from Nicholas's sister and yet unfamiliar all together, as though he knew something the blond teen did not. Whatever response Aideen gave, it wasn't verbal, but Phillip reacted as though she'd done something to acknowledge him.

Feeling his sister's hand at his arm, her right gripping tightly to the looser fabric of his shirt at his back, some things began to fall into place from the night nearly two months ago. She'd returned home crying, looking small, and broken. She'd burnt her clothes and shoved them away where only Nicholas had spotted them that first night. She'd gotten a shower that, while she hadn't been in it long, had managed to scorch her skin until she resembled a lobster. Two and two were equaling four, which in this case was a reason to pound Phillip Armstrong's face in, possibly even hurt him more permanently.

"Danny," Nicholas said, the muscles in his face clenching as he looked at his chief guard, "can you get Aideen out of here? She seems very uncomfortable. Maybe drive around Central for a while?"

"Nicholas, don't do anything rash."

"You know me well enough to know I'll only do what's necessary."

He watched as the longtime guard and friend to the family pulled his frightened sister from him. No sooner was Aideen out of the little café than Nicholas had Phillip pinned to a wall, automail pushing heavily against the person he'd called a friend.

"I'm not saying I won't kill you if you do, but I seriously recommend you tell me what you did to my sister," Nicholas hissed at the other teen who he now met in the eyes. "Because if you don't start speaking, I'll kill you anyway."

"I-I didn't do anything to her!" Phillip said in a panicked voice.

"Keep your voice down," Nicholas said. "It's bad enough we're in public. Now, do you want to tell me why she looks at you like you were an attacker of some sort, or why I have strong suspicions her time the night she disappeared was spent with you, in one way or another?"

"I didn't— It was consensual, I swear."

"I think there are two men who would like to speak to the young man who hurt Aideen."

He spun Phillip and grabbed him by the back of the neck, leading him to the guards' vehicle that was parked out front.

"We need to go to the mansion," Nicholas said to the other members of the guard, giving them all a nod of gratitude for not stopping him from defending his sister, as he hadn't hit the prick he'd considered a friend.

0o0o0o0

"This sucks," Russell said as Wrath stood at the stove of their tiny kitchen. "I've hardly gotten to see you all week."

A black eyebrow raised at him. "Are you telling me that you blame the fuhrer or…"

"No, I blame those people on the other side of that damned Gate," Russell said, rising to wrap his arms around his boyfriend's waist, pressing his body flush against the hard muscle of the taller man's back. "Why'd they have to get so active lately?"

"That's exactly what we're all trying to find out." Wrath turned in Russell's arms, now leaving the older man to look up at the two amethyst eyes. "Besides, it's not as though you and I are the only ones taking turns down in the underground city. Your brother's there now, and Ed, Al, and even General Armstrong have all taken their turns." Just as Russell was about to argue, Wrath put a massive hand over the goatee and mouth of the blond. "And, yes, I know they haven't as much as you, Fletcher and I, but they have families."

"Then what are we?" Russell asked, muffled by the palm covering his mouth.

For a moment, Wrath opened his mouth, but said nothing. Russell tried not to smile at the fact that he had confused the younger man, but all urge to smile faded when he saw tears gathering in the violet eyes. He thought maybe that he'd hurt his lover's feelings, and started to apologize only to find the hand over his mouth had moved and been replaced by a pair of hungry, seeking lips. The older man realized, as the lips moved and he was embraced tightly, he'd said something very, very right.

"You consider me family? Really?"

"When someone nearly trumps my brother as someone I'd risk my life to save if he was in danger, yeah, I'd say he's family."

"I've never really had that."

"The entire Mustang family adores you, Sig Curtis considers you his son—"

"But ultimately, I'm not their family. Like you said, there are many others who would 'trump' me if we were both in danger."

"As long as you and Fletcher don't both get yourselves in trouble, then, I have no issues."

"I'll do my best." Wrath squeezed Russell tighter for a moment, which made the more research-driven alchemist gasp for breath just a bit. Then, Russell found himself released, Wrath carefully analyzing him again. "You know, it's taken a while to get used to it, especially when we kiss, but I think I like the goatee."

"So do I," Russell said. "Makes me stand out from Ed a little more."

"You were the one who chose to stand in his shadow."

"Yeah, but trying to step out from it has been harder than hell. Who'd think such a little guy could cast such a big one?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way if you ever tell him that, but I have to agree." Wrath flexed his right arm. "I get just two limbs from him and I have more power than most alchemists."

Russell kissed Wrath on the cheek. "I think you might have just a bit to do with that."

Wrath only smiled, hating that he had only a half-hour before he had to go and monitor the Gate, because if there'd ever been a time he felt like actually making love with his boyfriend, it was now.

0o0o0o0

Ed hung the red coat back on the rack by the main door. Whenever Aideen saw it, which, knowing her, would probably be immediately after she entered the house, hopefully, she'd realized he'd gathered the pieces so that she could wear it again. Things had been so… quiet around the house. Even when it had been just he and Roy, Ed couldn't remember a time there wasn't some activity. No, that wasn't really true. There had been quite a few times, he and Roy would sit in silence and read or merely hold to one another, both still very much awake, but saying nothing. But this silence was hollow, painful.

Aideen's behavior, at least, seemed less rebellious, as she was now going to bed at earlier hours, eating slightly better and more than she'd been, fights were dwindling between parents and daughter—though the same couldn't be said for the twins themselves. Their arguments seemed to be lumped into one larger one, and yet, whenever Aideen became sullen or distant, Nicholas's behavior toward her resumed as that of the loving brother.

He blamed his children for the first gray hair he'd actually found on his own head, one which he had very quickly plucked from his head and flushed down the toilet. He'd teased Roy long enough that he didn't want to show any sign that he was aging until the older man was completely white. That was something that looked to be happening sooner than later, as his hair appeared less like steel from a distance and more like silver with the way the black and white blended throughout.

Al had needed to leave early. Apparently, Winry had some sort of automail order to fill and needed him to watch over their brood—or litter, as Roy tended to tease, based on Al's devoted love of cats—and Sasha and Robert had both caught something at school and were sick with some kind of stomach virus. As far as Ed was concerned, Al could just stay with his kids until that virus had made its way through the family. He had no desire to run to the toilet emptying his stomach's contents.

But, just because he didn't have Al with him didn't mean that either of the two brothers had stopped their search for ways to permanently close the Gate. Things had been far too stirred up lately in the underground city, and that almost always signified trouble. At all times, one alchemist was kept down there, sometimes more, to monitor activities along with a troop of soldiers trusted enough to keep the city and the Gate's portal a secret. Unfortunately, the pool of reliable soldiers and alchemists in areas of keeping secrets was limited.

Ed also thought it was a bit unfair that Roy seemed to be sending Fletcher down there almost twice as much as everyone else. Roy admitted he respected the younger man for standing up to him concerning his feelings for Aideen, but that hadn't stopped the fuhrer and over-protective father from giving the plant alchemist a job almost entirely contrary to his abilities. And yet, Fletcher continued to earn Roy's respect by never balking his duties, never questioning anything.

Of course that was before Roy had asked Fletcher why, when the younger Tringham brother gave the answer that apparently disturbed Roy far more than it had Ed. "Because we think Dante's involved, and that could mean danger to Aideen. I would do anything, including spend fifty or sixty hours a week inside of a dark, cavernous city to make sure she and everyone else are safe."

There had been no mentions that Roy was being unfair, which he was. None that he was being hypocritical, which he was. There hadn't even been a mention that Roy had given Ed his first kiss at nearly the same age and first sexual experiences before his next birthday, which he had.

As Ed was considering what Fletcher could one day mean to his only daughter, and still trying to accept all of the possibilities, he heard noise on the front porch, noise that usually signified his husband was home, much too early, and Falman was still trying to deliver messages to him. The door was only open a slight crack when he heard Roy.

"Major, please, I will do everything within my power to return to the officer after this is over, but when I receive a message this cryptic from my son, I answer it."

Roy opened the door, seeing Ed still near it. He smiled that wary, tired smile that familiarly graced the pale face. As Roy stepped in the house, he wrapped an arm around Ed and kissed him lightly.

"So what's this about a cryptic message?" Ed asked.

"Nicholas called, he said he thought he'd found out more about what happened with Aideen that night Tringham nearly took advantage of her—"

"Roy…" Ed said, warningly. He wasn't happy at the idea of his daughter with anyone in a serious relationship, something he'd never considered her dating Phillip to be. Yet, he liked Fletcher, and he wasn't thrilled that his husband kept talking about him that way.

"Fine, he told me he knew more about that night and he needed to meet with us here at the house. He knew you'd be here or at the lab out back."

"Am I that predictable?" Ed asked, just a hint of mirth in his voice despite concern over his son's strange message.

"Horribly," Roy said before instructing Falman to go back to the main office and sat with Ed in the study, waiting on Nicholas. They hadn't been on the sofa, Roy next to Ed with his hand on Ed's knee, for more than a few minutes when the doorbell rang. Ed hopped up, knowing he was still by far quicker at getting up from a seated position than Roy, to go to the door. When he checked to see who was at the door, he found only a massive uniformed chest and realized he knew exactly the only person it could be, even if their face couldn't be seen.

He opened the door to a very serious-looking General and Rose Armstrong. If it was possible, Ed was more confused than ever. He let them into his home and was about to shut the door when he saw Nicholas and a few of the guards with Phillip. The eldest of the two Armstrong boys had a slightly swollen look to his jaw and Nicholas continuously clenched and unclenched his hand as though it had recently been used to cause that swelling.

The moment they were all inside of the house, Nicholas glared at the other teen Ed thought he'd still considered a friend. "You!" Nicholas pointed at the curly-haired cadet. "Talk. Now!"

0o0o0o0

Fletcher had been grateful for the relief from the city. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he still felt astonished it wasn't night when he left the dark cavern. Like most of the soldiers and other alchemists had all commented before, it was strange to spend that much time in that complete darkness without expecting it the moment he stepped outside.

Though he was tired from pulling what equated to a very long cat-eye shift in the city, Fletcher needed to go to the Central office first, to speak to the fuhrer—hardass that he was being since the kiss two months before—and Frank Archer, then the Elric brothers. Going toward headquarters, Fletcher greeted the woman at the front, books under his arm. She informed him that the fuhrer was dealing with family business, and his eyes must have flashed concern because she immediately informed him it had something to do with Nicholas.

Though Fletcher tried to pretend that he was just as concerned about Nicholas as his sister, the reality was that he wasn't. He liked Nicholas, considered him a friend, but the thought of Aideen having a problem clenched at Fletcher's chest and stomach.

He made his way to the door labeled "Colonel Archer: Head of Military Investigations"

Frank's secretary nodded at him to enter, warning Fletcher that the colonel wasn't in a particularly good mood.

"Colonel Archer?" Fletcher said, almost wanting to spit that name from his tongue.

"Hello, Fletcher," Frank said, coldly. It brought an involuntary shiver up the younger man's spine.

"Is something wrong, Frank, um, Colonel sir?"

"Oh," Frank said, features softening slightly," sorry Fletcher. Just an unresolved fight at home."

Fletcher didn't want to ask what about or why he, specifically, seemed to bring the colonel out of his funk.

"It was about a lot of things, but ended with Aideen and her recent behavior. Of course, I defended her, but Kain really wasn't happy."

Fletcher understood now; he was a fellow Aideen supporter, a brother-in-arms of sorts.

"So, what brings you here?" Frank asked.

Fletcher held out a few books. "I was reading these while I was down in the city."

"Aren't you supposed to play guard while you're there?"

"I was there in the middle of the night in the pure silence. If anyone is with you during those times, trust me, you know." Fletcher sat in one of the leather chairs across from Frank. "The thing is, I think we need to start looking at more eastern techniques at tracking down Dante. There are a few tell-tale signs these books describe in matters of possession."

"I still don't quite understand how everyone's so sure this woman, thing, whatever the hell she is can possess other people's bodies."

"Have you ever seen Al do it?"

"No, only heard."

"Because he was bound to a suit of armor—and I know you might not believe it because you haven't seen it, but trust me on this—he can detach his soul much easier than the rest of us."

"Dante has survived for over four hundred years that way."

"So I've been told."

"Apparently, in Piamo, the country east of Xing, it's happened before and they have several wards against it, one very similar to the array that we all wear of Ed's design. They also have methods of detection."

"Shouldn't you be taking this to Ed?" Frank asked. "Or at least Kain?"

"I would," Fletcher said, "except that I need your researchers and investigators as well. It won't be a quick process, but there are apparently certain things to look for that have nothing to do with alchemy but residual minerals."

"In other words, something our fledgling science could detect while the alchemists work on more important issues."

Fletcher nodded.

"Interesting."

0o0o0o0

**_Munich_**

Roy Mustang had done everything he could to earn praise, to get promotions and rank in his career, but today, all that mattered was that he resist the will of the Thule Society. For whatever reason, he was naturally powerful, nothing like that man Hohenheim, but powerful enough. He'd resisted learning anything more about this joke science of alchemy, and he'd even tried to refuse to eat just to take the easiest possible way out, only to have food stuffed in him.

Apparently, he was an important part of the equation.

Though he had always sought rank, he hadn't wanted it in the manner he'd achieved. He hadn't wanted to be the chief prisoner, the one with the most power in this situation. Apparently, the rank worked downward, with the Scotsman in a three-way tie for second with a set of American brothers, both farmers and planters by nature but naturally skilled when it came to alchemy, particularly involving plants. Following them, it was the turncoat bishop who had joined the Thules, a Spaniard named Gran who had a head completely devoid of hair and a mustache even more ridiculous than that of the Scot, and a woman whose beauty, despite the age somewhere around forty, was incredibly enticing, with a nature around like that of the psirons of Greek mythology. The American brothers' father, Nash, was next, holding such a spot only because his constant presence ensured the two brothers would cooperate. Last on the list was the least important, the most easily sacrificed, Shou Tucker.

They had realized that Tucker was to be a sacrifice some time ago, but the man who still mourned the loss of his wife and daughter couldn't seem to be made to care. In all honesty, if it hadn't been for the Thule society, keeping the man alive, Tucker would likely have done himself in. From what the former colonel understood, Tucker had been on that path when he'd been abducted.

They'd all been abducted, save for Roy. No, the trained intelligence officer and occasional spy had walked into their trap. But he was also necessary. He was needed by the Thules to complete their plans to wage war on this other world, to capture the technology and knowledge available there. Finally, they would use that information on the rest of this world, helping the Nazis complete their plans, helping them destroy London.

They threatened Roy's family, but really, what more could they do? Riza and the boys lived in London, and that was one of their first areas for attack if the Thules reached their so-called "Shamballa." Either way, Roy was going to lose his family, and he'd mourned it and accepted that fact. Either by his inaction or action they would die, but at least thousands of others wouldn't.

Now, as he stood contemplating his actions, making the decision he'd hoped he'd have the nerve to make, he found himself meeting that bitch Eckhart's eyes. They were cold and smug, and he had a very bad suspicion that things were going to go very bad for him, very fast.

"Are you planning to defy me?" she said with a faint smile.

"What do you think?"

"I think you are going to obey my every command."

"I think you're crazier than I originally thought."

Eckhart smiled again, and for just a second, Roy glanced up at the tall, gray-haired alchemist standing by her side. He saw the look of almost illness and pity in the usually stoic face of Hohenheim, and Roy tried to hide the worry that was eating away at his gut.

"Why don't we bring in some familiar faces?" Eckhart said.

At that single phrase, that command to her subordinates, Roy's heart leapt into his throat. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

But she had.

Struggling against the restraints, furious and fierce, he saw his wife and sons fighting, yelling.

Riza looked much too thin, probably from worry or thinking she'd lost him. But still, in those coppery eyes, there was a dangerous passion.

"Roy!"

"Father!" the twins yelled in unison.

Beyond his control, even finding some strength in his much-too-weakened body, Roy ran to them, embracing them. Tears ran down his face as he held and saw his family for the first time since he'd started "spying" on the Thules.

As his wife was trying to understand what was happening, as he was just trying to take in her face, his boys' faces, he found himself being pulled roughly away.

He saw her, though. He'd finally seen Riza after all this time. Her hair was lighter as it was going gray, there were crinkles in the skin at the corners of her eyes, but she was still beautiful and fiery.

Aiden was trying to be strong, his coal black eyes that matched his father's in every way looked hard and angry. His short black hair was a mess, his thin lips pursed together in anger.

Beside him, Nicholas stood, his eyes, just as identical as his mother's, took everything in, a mixture of fear, anger and awe evident, particularly when he spotted the serpent. His blond head jerked upward to get Aiden's attention toward the ceiling, which he did, looking less fearful but just as surprised.

"You see," Eckhart said, "I've been more than aware of the decision you were planning to make, Mr. Mustang, and I thought your family might like to hear you utter their death sentence in person. Perhaps, if you're lucky, our executioners, who are all rather skilled with their guns will be able to keep you from being splattered by your family's blood."

Roy looked over at his family.

"Whatever they want, don't give it to them," Riza yelled. "They've already killed Raine when she tried to protect us. Don't believe what they say!"

"That's right, you have no proof we'll keep them safe, do you?" Eckhart said. "But you do know if you do nothing, we'll pluck them off one by one, and you'll be unable to stop it. After all, we've been keeping you alive, not strong, all this time for a reason."

Roy looked into three sets of eyes, six orbs that belonged to the people who meant the most to him.

0o0o0o0

**_Amestris_**

Roy watched as his husband attacked the young Armstrong.

"No," Roy said, voice flat. "Ed. Stop." He watched, trying not to encourage Ed as he held the teen against the wall, threatening him within an inch of his life. He also tried not to attack his top General when he pulled Ed from Phillip.

"Were you going to do nothing?" Armstrong asked Roy as he held a squirming, pissed off Ed back.

"I might have if I disagreed with my husband. Personally, I think you should be grateful he didn't deck your son immediately or that I didn't pull out my gloves."

"Well, I would appreciate it if you trusted me enough to handle my son," Armstrong said.

"_Our_ son," Rose corrected.

"Our son," Armstrong said, as though trying not to sound highly irritated with his wife.

"You've done an excellent job so far," Ed hissed as he pried himself from the large man's grip.

It was rare to see the usually gentle giant angry, but at those words, he looked as though he might do serious injury.

"I will not have you taking away our Armstrong family honor any more than my son already has." Then, the glaring blue eyes were turned on Phillip. "I have raised you from the time you were a boy, gave you the Armstrong name, a name with a proud tradition, and this is how you show me respect? This is how you honor the family you have been brought into? Perhaps you didn't learn enough about self-control."

"Self control!" Nicholas yelled. "You didn't see my sister today. She looked terrified of him. The night she allegedly consented, she came home and burned all her clothes, took a shower so hot her skin was red. You tell me what that sounds like you did to her." Then, maliciously, he added, "Maybe it's just genetics."

"I'm not Lucas Reid! I'm not that man!" Phillip yelled. "I would never take advantage of anyone, especially not Aideen. I love her!"

"But that's exactly what you did, even if we do believe your story," Roy said, his voice remaining calm, so calm it actually scared himself. "My daughter came to you, according to your story, telling you what had happened that day, about the fight she'd had. She was an emotional wreck and yet, when she told you she was interested in doing more, you didn't hesitate."

"I tried to tell her it was a bad idea, but you have no idea how hard it was to tell her no."

"Then perhaps you should get some tips from Fletcher Tringham. He managed to do it well enough," Roy said, watching the shocked expression on Phillip's face. "She failed to tell you that you were her second choice, did she?"

"Then how can you blame my son for what happened? Why not place the blame on your daughter?" Rose asked of him.

"Because while your son has been walking around smiling, possibly bragging that he took my daughter's virginity—"

"I'd never do that!"

Roy continued as though he'd never been interrupted. "Aideen has been walking around looking like she'd been broken, damaged irrevocably."

"She's been acting rather like a petulant child lately, if you ask me, not to mention the other words to describe her behavior with my son and her teacher," Rose said.

"I really don't believe in hitting women, Rose," Ed said, glaring, "but you say another comment like that, and I swear I won't be able to restrain myself."

Then, from the hall came the slamming of a door and the sound of Danny Brosch yelling out Aideen's name.

Roy was the first in the hallway, finding Brosch opening the door, searching frantically for any signs of the teen.

"She's gone!" the guard and major in the military said. "She just… she vanished."

"A teenager cannot just vanish, Brosch!" Roy said, stepping out onto his front steps, looking around for any sign of his daughter. "Tell me what happened?"

"She wanted to come back to the house, said she was feeling a little under the weather," the guard said as he proceeded to search the grounds by Roy's side as Ed and the Armstrongs looked elsewhere. "She saw the coat hanging by the door, said 'They don't hate me,' and put it on. Then, she seemed to hear what you were talking about and ran out before I could stop her. She should have been right outside of the door when I opened it."

"But she wasn't," Roy said.

0o0o0o0

The radio Wrath had been given signaled for him to look for any signs of Aideen. Apparently the girl had run off again. He shook his head, wishing he could just know what was wrong with her. She was family to him, but more than that, he was concerned about Nicholas, who had come to visit at least weekly, looking distraught at what had been happening with Aideen.

The teen was still the first to truly befriend him, and Wrath hated to see what the fighting with his sister was doing to Nicholas. He also hated that lately, it seemed as though everything going on in Amestris revolved around those two, but he'd never say that aloud. Though, that didn't stop the other soldiers who had to separate and search the rest of the underground city in a wider area to look for Aideen.

Well Wrath never said anything to anyone, except to Russell, who felt the same way. Wrath could hardly help himself as he smiled, patrolling the area of the underground city close to the Gate. Damn, he was an idiot for that man. He hadn't thought he'd ever find someone he cared about half as much as he had about Edward, and he'd been rather certain it wouldn't be the son of a bitch who'd gotten him so angry just to get him to speak.

But he'd been wrong, hopelessly, blissfully wrong.

0o0o0o0

Kain wasn't known around the office as a mean or miserable man, but today, it seemed everyone was taking a wide berth with him. And in the mood he currently found himself in, he couldn't argue. He practically growled at everyone who passed.

Fights between himself and Frank were so rare, even more so were the ones that remained unresolved. He almost didn't recognize this feelin felt like something was eating at his stomach all day long, not only because he felt the continued anger at his husband, but because he felt guilty for being so angry and staying that way.

He needed to resolve this.

He started to knock on Frank's door, but saw it was already open. Pushing it further open, he found Frank at his desk, watching something in earnest. Pushing a little more, Kain, saw Fletcher Tringham, shirt off, rubbing his hands over his chest.

Kain tried to check feelings of hurt as he tried to shut the door, trying to remind himself that Fletcher was straight, or at least claimed to be.

"I thought I've told people to knock before they come into my office."

"I-I didn't think that applied to me," Kain said, still holding onto the doorknob.

"Of course not," Frank said, his voice still cold. "You're my commanding officer, you can do whatever you like."

"Right," Kain said. "Just your commanding officer."

"Kain, get your ruddy little ass back in here this instant," Frank said, making Kain blush and make sure that no one aside from maybe Frank's secretary and Fletcher had heard that. He walked into the office and Fletcher smiled broadly at him, as though he'd been doing nothing wrong, and perhaps, he hadn't.

"I was just talking to your husband about mineral residue that can be left when dealing with soul transmutations, as well as the distinct rotting of the flesh when a foreign and weakened soul is the only resident in a body. I really should have brought a diagram, though. It's unbelievably cold in this office."

The blond man grabbed for his shirt and smiled at Kain. "I was so glad to finally find this information. It could help us find Dante. Really, I need to talk to you too. There is discussion in some of these records and books of ways that a false soul can be recognized in an interrogation. Far more helpful to you with that being your department."

Kain had never seen Fletcher look so excited, so energetic. That was until Frank's phone rang, informing the three that once again, Aideen had run off from her guards.

"You know," Frank said. "I love the girl dearly, but I'd like to not play babysitter for her every time she runs away from home."

Kain could see his husband meeting his eyes, trying to tell him this was a small concession on his part concerning the fight they'd had. In return, Kain smiled and nodded.

"But she is troubled."

With that, the issue of Aideen was resolved until they could better discuss it, though Kain knew there was much more behind the origins of this fight. He'd talk to his husband about it later, but at the moment, he was just pleased to feel a fraction of the anger and guilt off his chest.

0o0o0o0

**_Munich_**

Hohenheim watched as Mustang grappled with the decision ahead of him, looking to his family, to the wife that Hohenheim's son-in-law—he supposed by now—had never gotten to marry, to the sons that Hohenheim tried to picture with features of his own son incorporated.

"I- I'll…" Tears were forming and falling. "I'll do it. I'll help to open the Gate."

Hohenheim had expected as much. Despite all this man's shortcomings, if one thing could be said about him, it was that he did love his family. Hohenheim felt sorry for the man, knowing that none of these people would be necessary to open the Gate if he would do it for them. Unfortunately, Hohenheim was not about to be used as a weapon against his own family. That was why he kept the extent of his knowledge and ability in the field of alchemy a closely guarded secret. He hated to think what these people would force him to do if they had any idea, and preferred to think of what he could manage if he could catch them by surprise.

"Very good, Mr. Mustang," Eckhart said. "But you see, as I'm planning to cross through the gate myself," she said as she looked toward the dirigible at the back of the room, "I think I'm going to need some form of insurance that you will help those here to re-open the Gate again."

A non-verbal signal told one of the Thules to grab the man's wife.

"Riza! What the hell do you mean? You said you wouldn't kill them!"

"I won't," Eckhart said, "but if you want to ensure your wife comes back in one piece from the other side of the Gate and that your children aren't killed in front of you, you will open the Gate once again when we need to return."

"Frau Eckhart," Hohenheim said, "as I am going to be nno the dirigible with you, allow me to handle this woman." With a smile to the woman that seemed almost devilish, a smile he hadn't thought himself capable of. "I know perfectly well how to take care of her."

He met Mustang's eyes, seeing that the man knew he was offering his protection to Riza as they crossed through to Amestris. Mustang still reacted violently, not letting the others know that he felt she was safe in the older man's hands.

Hohenheim warned the woman to close her eyes as he saw some of the men leading Tucker up the stairs toward Envy. "You aren't going to want to watch this. Signal to your boys to do the same."

He didn't look up when he heard the screams or the sound of the man's body being crushed, and he tried desperately to ignore the single drop of blood that had struck his cheek.

0o0o0o0

**_Amestris_**

Dante had been forced to work fast. She had been delayed in coming down here. The dramatics of the Mustang family were really growing to be too much, not to mention the number of soldiers she'd had to avoid just to get to the hot point in the city. She knew that with the quick clap of her hands to create the array, she'd cause suspicion, as it created a practically blinding light in the middle of the near darkness.

It had been much too long since she'd managed to see a plan done so perfectly come into fruition. Tucker was only part of what she needed, part of something that had nothing to do with opening the Gate. Instead, she had called up every member of the military she knew to be filthy, underhanded cheats. They would all be heroes of this battle, they would "save" Amestris from the invaders, and they would be her pawns to manipulate. She knew that as long as she found ways to offer them power and money, they would obey. None had seen her face, and it would be some time before anyone was able to associate this body with her name. Not until she'd dispatched with the brat and his family.

Now, all she had to do was wait for the first person to come running to investigate in order to complete the necessary blood sacrifice.

Conveniently enough, the massive form came around the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" he said.

"Wrath," Dante said, "I need your help."

The former homunculus, the sin who had never truly sworn his allegiance to her came closer. So trusting.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Dante smiled. How she loved this body.

"Are you okay?" Obviously, the man was worried by the drastic change in her demeanor.

"I'm quite all right, Wrath. You see, I needed a blood sacrifice, and it seems only fitting that after all the trouble you've caused me, you finally be of some use."

"Dante? How the hell—"

But before he could utter another word, she'd speared him with the dagger she'd been carrying with her, piercing the man's stomach and gashing it downward. Still, desptie the wound, he tried to attack her, making him bleed much more quickly, much more copiously. Dante, however quickly rolled out of his way and blocked him with simple air alchemy. He fell to the ground with enormous force, too much in his injured state to allow him to get back up.

He muttered out some things, some questions while he tried to hold the now gaping wound closed. He grabbed the necklace around his neck, the one that all those closest to the fuhrer wore.

"Oh, you mean this?" she asked as she pulled her own from the collar. "It has to be on before I'm in the body to work. I think you'll find I've been here a very, very long time."

She watched the man gasp, coughing up blood. "You, like all the rest, wanted to be more human. Does that seem so appealing now that you are drowning on your own blood? Now that you know you will die? And you will die quite painfully.

"Tell me, Wrath, will you think of him, your lover, as you die? Perhaps the one you are about to join? Or will you dwell on seeing this face you trusted, this body bringing about your end?" She enjoyed taunting him, enjoyed that he had buckled so easily, that this mountain crumbled beneath a true master of alchemy and manipulation.

"They will stop…" Again he coughed.

"No, they won't." Now, she needed to finish before other soldiers came to investigate. With a clap of her hands and a scream of pain from the large man, she opened to Gate.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53 **

**_Greater of Two Evils _**

****

**_Munich_**

Dietlinde Eckhart stood beside one of her troops as he guided the ship through the Gate. In a holding room at the back, she knew Hohenheim would keep that woman under control. He was a knowledgeable man, and she pitied that he wouldn't be able to view this amazing sight. To see the awful beauty of the opened gateway was something that Eckhart thought's she'd never live to manage, and something she felt certain held the respect of the man nearly her own age, the man she wouldn't have minded getting to know better.

The biggest uncertainty for the leader of the society was not the ability of her superior forces to catch the other world's military off-guard or even what she would encounter there. The deception she felt she saw in those letters from Dante was not in the description of Shamballa, Dietlind was certain. It was in the nature of the other woman herself and her "loyalty" to the Thules' cause.

Personally, Eckhart thought the fact that this other woman thought she could deceive her was rather amusing. Eckhart was a woman in a world controlled by men. She had risen to a role of respect within the Nazi regime. She would be damned if she allowed this other woman to get anything more than a moment of feeling superior before Dietlinde decided what she wanted to do with this Dante. She could prove useful, but Eckhart realized she'd have to at least be captured, if not killed due to the threat she could pose.

The dirigible was now at the opening of the Gate, and the normally cold woman could feel herself shaking in anticipation. She knew she would begin her entrance into Shamballa in a cavern. Dante had told her to expect that. However, she had created the dirigibles to go on this mission to the proper proportions. She would take no chances, not with her entrance into this world, not even with Dante. After all, the woman had failed to prevent the creation of the blocks that kept the Gate from opening anywhere in the city, forcing the Thules to limit the size of their equipment and make an entrance not only through the Gate but a cavern. Truly, Eckhart couldn't stand the idea that she was so reliant on a woman so inept.

0o0o0o0

"We're at the Gate," Hohenheim said to the blond woman. "Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?" she scoffed. "You must be joking."

"We're going to be cross through to another world and you're going to need to have faith in me to keep use safe."

"Another world?" She chuckled nervously. "Pull the other one."

"I, my lady, am most assuredly not pulling your leg." He clapped his hands and wrapped his arms around her.

"Get off me you letch!" she yelled.

"Listen to me, Mrs. Mustang," he said in her ear, "you are important to people on the side of the Gate we have just left, but I assure you that you are special on the side where we are about to arrive. Now, you must trust me to protect you.

"This vessel, as well as the others are covered in arrays that Eckhart believes will help to make the these planes and dirigibles more responsive to their pilots."

"And they won't?" she asked in a tone that said she only half-believed what he was saying.

"They will be responsive, but those aboard will not be the same after passing through the amount of alchemic power as exists in the Gate. It's all theory to me, but if you do not trust me to block out the power, we could end up a piece of this ship."

Hohenheim found himself looking to a pair of rust brown eyes. With a warm smile, he met them, and began to summon up every ounce of his alchemic power to protect them both.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas was running alongside his dad, both having lost their guards at some point in the confusion, when he felt the enormous surge of alchemy. He looked down at his father's halted form. "Dad? It's the Gate. It's open."

He watched the long-haired man nod.

For just a moment, Nicholas stopped, trying to sense the exact location and power of the now-open Gate. "Dad," he said, trying to no avail to keep his voice steady, "that power, it's totally open now. Not like before."

"You can tell that much?" the older man asked as Nicholas ran to catch up once again.

"Always. I think even more than Aideen ever could." They ran to the nearest opening of the underground city.

"You should—"

"Dad, I'm older than you were when you were risking your life. I'm going to help you find Aideen."

"Stubborn little shit," his dad said as they neared the guarded opening, nodding to the guards that it was okay for the younger man to follow him beyond.

As they were about to run beneath Central, the ground began to shake. "Dad, I don't think we're going to need to go down there to fight them."

0o0o0o0

Phillip, however, found himself beneath the city, the fuhrer at his side. He'd felt the disturbance with the Gate as well, and part of him, the part that still had nightmares of the large door which held behind it thousands of little tendrils and frightening eyes, was terrified at the idea. From what he and Aideen had managed to guess, memories of that thing had been engrained upon his soul, rather than his mind. According to her, and he trusted her to know about these kinds of things with the amount of research she did, when a person's soul is used or manipulated in some way as Phillip's was, the memories incorporated themselves into it.

Perhaps that was why, now, as he stood staring and the eerie glow of the Gate's opening, he felt like his veins had been filled with ice water.

"Cadet Armstrong," the fuhrer called to him as he ran ahead, "are you coming?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

Phillip caught up to the older man, only to find himself being halted by a surprisingly strong arm. Something was rising from the buildings, something monstrously huge. Beside it, two of the flying crafts that Amestris was still trying to perfect few from the gate and began firing something at the cavern ceiling.

"Come on, we need to get to a higher level," the fuhrer ordered as Commander Ross, his ever present guard handed him the radio strapped to his waist.

Phillip watched the man with the same respect, despite his earlier harsh words, that he always had. Though he suspected that the man would have preferred a life where he didn't have to lead his troops into battle and bark orders, there was no denying that the man was in his element. He was good at this, better than good at this. The fuhrer was a natural-born leader, with no desire for increasing the power he had, and if it had never been evident before, it certainly was now.

As the little airplanes—if Phillip remembered the word right—began attacking the cave ceiling along with the now fully extracted dirigible—again a name the young man was surprised he'd pulled from memory—he began drawing designs on the rooftop of the building as he watched the older man at his side putting on his gloves.

"Sir," Phillip said, "the components of this building, I can make them into a highly combustible dust cloud."

"Then do so, Cadet."

Phillip nodded as he placed his hands on the design, breaking up the flammable components and sending them into the air, allowing for the fuhrer to use his fire alchemy to send the first attack at one of the strange-looking planes. In the midst of the fire and dust, he thought he saw a figure clinging to the side of the dirigible trying to gain entry as one of the planes crashed to the ground. Still, more of the things kept coming, and they were obviously going to break through the ceiling as the dirigible, which had done very little in this time began alchemically transforming its sides into enormous guns, shooting through the cavern at it's weakest point.

"Everyone out! Now!" the fuhrer yelled into his radio. "Send word to have the Tringham brothers and General Armstrong secure the ground above. Wrath, see what you can do from below."

"We're going to have to fight from above," the fuhrer said as he led Phillip along with the other troops in the underground city from their positions of attack down to the old streets and up to the surface level.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher had gotten the fuhrer's orders to secure the streets of Central from an attack below, as Frank and Kain gathered troops under their command. Though all had prepared themselves for this day, none had wanted to admit that it might become necessary. When he'd arrived at the center of the city, the place where the quakes and tremors were growing worse, he could see his older brother, still buttoning his uniform coat running toward him. The two both produced pieces of paper and laid them on the ground almost simultaneously, working to prevent the entire cavern from collapsing as whatever was below attempted to burst through the ground.

They received an all-clear from the radio, and just as the two men were about to begin putting the columns of rock into the ground below, columns that could have injured those who might be standing in one of their locations.

"Not all clear. Wrath is still down there." Someone yelled over the radio. Fletcher glanced up at his brother, watching as the usually cocky demeanor faltered, as he now seemed hesitant.

"He was ordered to work from the ground. That is probably what he is doing." Another voice said.

Russell still looked pale, but nodded to Fletcher as they began putting every ounce of alchemy into their work, creating columns from below. When General Armstrong joined them, he put on his gauntlets as he began his work, looking concerned.

"General," a young officer said, "we have received word from your wife that she has your son, Alex, in a stronghold now. She's at the mansion with other families in the shelter."

"And Phillip?"

"Has reached the surface with the fuhrer. The fuhrer said to assure you in one piece."

His posture relaxing just a bit, the general nodded. Though it was no secret that things had been tense between Armstrong and his wife for the last year or so, no one would deny that he loved both his boys. Yet, Fletcher was a little curious as to why that message about Phillip being in one piece was so specifically important, and coming from Roy.

0o0o0o0

Frank stood at the ready, his troops all armed with various weapons that had been modified from Earth technology. His troops contained no alchemists, and he preferred it that way. Alchemists had the tendency to out-shine, but here, these men were operating complicated rocket launchers, advanced guns, and they were doing it without some genetic advantage.

They looked frightened, unsure of using these weapons against technology that had still yet to become more than a theory in Amestris, as their energy sources had never been designed for fossil fuels. These men had seen very little more than a glider, and Frank could only guess at the things that that bitcher was planning to bring through the ground. Though the Tringhams, along with Armstrong had obviously done what they could, Frank saw when he arrived at the scene of the cracking ground, it was obvious that whatever had gotten out from the ground below would obviously make its way through, regardless of their actions.

When the ground finally crumbled into the city below, a flinch on Russell's face—Frank had already heard that wrath hadn't come to the surface with the rest, Russell looking all the more sick at that fact.

The cracks became a gaping hole.

"Men!" Frank yelled out. "Steady your weapons and prepare to fire!"

He watched as planes soared out of the widening hole, giving his men the orders to fire at will, shooting off the launchers at the planes. Over and over again, they fired, Frank never visibly pausing while he silently prayed that Kain was safe atop the building.

0o0o0o0

Beside his son, Ed ran to a building opposite the one where he saw Kain and his troops stationed. Everything was running with almost frightening ease as attacks were made by the troops of Amestris, the planes initially just trying to break free of the underground city and not overly concerned with the troops on the ground as they all cleared the area for something Ed suspected was much larger.

Over his shoulder, he glanced up at his son—taller now than Roy, damn the boy—who stood with a pyrotech glove on one hand, an intense look on the usually carefree face. "Ready Dad?" He gestured to Ed's pocket, a signal that he needed to put on the glove Roy had insisted he carry with him because, as his husband had pointed out, "Not everyone fights hand to hand."

With that he put the thing on, looking over at his son, nodding. Together, they would combine their fire alchemy abilities. Both held up a gloved hand to the sky, snapping, focusing on transforming the air before them, creating a blast that might as well have been a bomb as it exploded in the sky with a large crack and destroyed the first plane as it swooped downward to do damage to the city.

"Those things," Nicholas yelled over the noise of the crashing plane. "They don't look like Frank described them. I think they've been enhanced with alchemy."

"They seem responsive to their pilots," Ed said, loudly as he and his son pointed their hands in the air and repeated the process again to destroy another two airplanes before running across the building to leap over the dividing wall between that one and the next.

"I'd like to get a better look at the arrays on them," Nicholas said as he followed behind.

"You sound like Aideen," Ed said, stopping so abruptly that Nicholas slammed into his back.

"Dad?"

"Nicholas, get down!" Ed slammed his son to the rooftop putting his body over top of the taller teen as the dirigible surfaced and began firing with alchemic force.

"That thing…" Nicholas said as he poked his head up over the tiny piece of wall in front of them before Ed pulled it back down, another blast nearly hitting the building where they laid. "It's part human, or at least, that's what I think. Like an entire army of humans became part of the thing."

Ed nodded. He hadn't quite the sixth sense when it came to alchemy either of the twins did, but he could tell something was off about the thing.

"I think it's the one in control of all of this. We need to get to it, Dad."

"Well, we have to wait until—" There was an explosion not far from them. "—Son of a bitch!—that thing isn't firing directly at us."

As another of the weapons almost magically formed at the side of the craft, Nicholas raised a single hand, snapping his fingers and blasting the weapon off, showering a distinctively fleshy metal onto the ground below.

"You were saying?" Nicholas said, sounding just a bit like his other father at the moment.

"Oh, stop being a smug little bastard," Ed said. "You hold off the guns, I'll see to getting us up to the thing."

0o0o0o0

Atop the other roof, Kain was leading more troops with aerial weaponry, half of his troops working to take out this large blimp that had broken through the street of Central, destroying several structures in the process, the other half working trying to get rid of the numerous other smaller aircrafts that circled.

He took only a split second to check for the dark headed colonel below him as he continued to command his troops, moving back within the ranks to aid his troops with the large rocket launchers. Despite his need for glasses, Kain had always had a fairly accurate eye when it came to aiming a weapon, even for aiming at where a target would be, rather than where it was.

Yet, as Kain glanced down, he saw that the Gate seemed to be closing in the underground city, and that one final dirigible and two planes were coming up. Grabbing the radio he had at his hip, he gave orders to Fletcher and Russell to begin closing the opening, hoping that if they could do it while the second dirigible was midway through the hole, it would essentially cut the thing in half.

0o0o0o0

Russell and his brother were doing what they could from behind a barricade, having to move there as the large dirigible made its slow progress upward. Not only had it grown unsafe to be so close to the gaping hole below Central, but that thing seemed to have a mind of its own, shooting at damned near anything that moved. He heard the orders from Kain, and deferring to the older man's higher rank, he obeyed.

Apparently, General Armstrong had received the same message, though probably didn't take it as an order from the lower ranking brigadier general with the better perspective on the battle. The large man nodded to both Tringham brothers, and together, they began working at closing the street. It was a process that would have taken little time at all, had some of the stone beneath them not been used to create pillars to support the weight of the city at the surface.

Much to Russell's relief, the opening began to close before the weapons of that leviathan were at the same level as he, and the stone began to shape its way through the soft skin of the air-filled blimp.

But, he hesitated. He was making this crash, making it fall down into the underground city, the last reported whereabouts of his boyfriend. If Wrath was still alive… He shook his head, he couldn't think that way. Wrath had to be down there, and because he absolutely had to be alive down there, Wrath knew better and would be coming to the surface any moment now to rub it in Russell's face that he'd been worried over him. If nothing else, Wrath sure as hell would get away from a crashing aircraft.

Again, Russell focused on his work, closing the opening, trying not to meet his brother's concerned eyes, not wanting to show that there was worry in his own, worry for the person he loved that he had yet to hear any word on.

0o0o0o0

Roy looked around at the damage being done to his city and with a fury began to attack at the offending vessels that kept coming from the now-closing opening to the underground. He'd fought too long and too hard to be essentially a guardian for his country, and he wasn't about to let a bunch of arrogant fanatics from another world do anything to change that.

But more than that, there was the concern over Aideen. He had asked if there were any signs of her yet, anyone who had found out where his daughter had gone off to. Though he did his best not to show that there was a part of him that was very much overwrought at the idea his daughter was somewhere out in the midst of this. According to Danny, who'd been taking her for a drive to calm her nerves while Nicholas began the confrontation, she'd needed to come home, and heard her family having a discussion about something incredibly personal without her present. He could only imagine how hurt, how confused his little girl was, and she was all of that, in the middle of a battle between two worlds.

Again, he tried to shift his focus back to the battle, telling himself that Aideen could handle herself better than the cadet by his side—and he was doing remarkably well, though as one who had become part of the Armstrong family, it was little surprise. Aideen had learned to fight from the time she was old enough to walk, kept a pair of gloves on her person at all times, and was lethal at almost any type of alchemy she tried.

Aideen would be safe.

At the moment, his concern was the growing column of stone that he saw held two very important blonds rising through the air. With an angry glare, he decided if his husband and son didn't get themselves killed with that stunt, he'd fry them both himself.

Then, to top off matters, he had people operating Central's missile systems that were not the commanding officers, nor were they people he particularly trusted, though they seemed to be doing everything efficiently and accurately. He would question them and their commanders later why some of his smarmiest, most snake-like officers were operating such intricate systems, but as long as they were functioning well, Roy couldn't complain. Though he had a feeling the nagging feeling at the back of his mind would increase once he had his family safe and all properly berated for their irresponsible behavior.

0o0o0o0

Dante had managed to climb inside one of the blast holes the brat's brat had caused in the side of the dirigible. The fool Germans had used those alchemic symbols she'd warned them about, incorporating themselves into the mechanics of what amounted to an absolutely beautiful creation of steel. She could hardly restrain herself as she allowed her fingers to trace over the craftsmanship of the walls of the thing.

A woman, older, and half transformed into the ship, looked back at Dante, transforming one of the walls into a gun to fire at the skilled alchemist. With a smile, Dante looked over at her, dissolving the thing with a quick clap of her hands.

"You're going to have to try harder than that Dietlinde," she said. "You know, this truly is a terrifyingly beautiful ship you have here."

"Who are you?"

"Allow me to introduce myself, Dietlinde. After all, we've been exchanging letters for quite some time."

"That's impossible."

"Of course not. I'm Dante. I'm the one who informed you of everything you needed to know, while withholding what I didn't want you to know." The woman in front of Dante lost her focus for a moment as she, now little more than an extension of the ship, began to fire at something outside. "Like those nice little rocket launchers they have outside."

"Dante has been writing me for twelve years."

"Why do you think I typed that first letter? A four-year-old hardly has the kind of manual dexterity necessary for writing."

The woman didn't believe her, and actually attempted to fire something at Dante again. With a faint yawn, the ancient alchemist again dissolved the weapon.

"Do you have any other tricks, or is it just the one where you try to shoot me, because really, Eckhart, I grow tired of having to do this."

"I will not be toyed with. Do you know who I am?"

"Do you know who _I_ am?" Dante took a few determined steps forward. "I have lived for four hundred years invading others' bodies. I am an alchemist of such power, such skill that someone as pathetic as you couldn't begin to try to screw with me. I have created other beings, I have solved countless alchemic mysteries, and I did it all before you were even a glimmer in your father's eyes. I have managed to find a host so damned powerful that I am able to draw off of her strength as well, and you really think you have a chance? The fact alone that I had to go through puberty for a second time is enough to make me stronger than you."

The thing that had once been a woman lunged at Dante, and it was all she could do to refrain from rolling her eyes as she dodged the attacks. Really, she'd hated having to grow up all over again, but as her body—somewhat lessened in its ability from recent lack of activity but still superior to her opponent's—flipped and rolled with ease Dante had never had in any previous bodies, she was grateful having learned to fight from nearly the day she was able to put her hand into a fist.

"And how do you plan to defeat me?" Eckhart asked, as she lashed out parts of her body almost whiplike at the alchemist. "Are you going to use your supposed skills, _Dante_?"

"Of course not. You aren't worth my skills," Dante said as she ducked down, pushing aside her red coat and reaching into a black boot to find the gun there. "You see, this body has another natural talent, in that its mother was a skilled marksman."

And with that, she fired an entire round into the German bitch, rather enjoying how the other woman, the one who thought she could be a match for Dante, tried to regenerate herself against the bullets ripping through her head and body.

The woman must have expected a battle of alchemy, because with each bullet that struck at her malformed figure, Eckhart looked positively shocked.

"I fight dirty, I'm afraid," Dante said, as she fired the last shot directly between the thing's eyes.

0o0o0o0

When Nicholas leaped onto the now calm dirigible, leaving his father cursing at him on the column, he saw a dark-haired figure operating the thing.

"Aideen?" he asked tentatively. The dark head dipped down just slightly. If his sister was operating this thing, it would explain why it stopped firing at the city. "Aideen? Are you okay?"

She looked over at him, tears in her eyes, her voice sounding far clearer than he'd expected from the looks of her saddened face. "Nicholas, I don't know how to operate this thing, and I- I shot…"

Nicholas looked down at his feet at the bloody mass. "Aideen, this woman was going to destroy the city. You did a good thing." Trying to ignore the thing that looked somewhat like a woman, he stepped over the thing's body, moving to his sister and wrapping his arms around her shoulders as comfort. She let go of the controls for a moment, something that obviously wasn't going to cause the dirigible to crash, at least not immediately and returned the embrace.

"Nicholas, I was so scared," she said, though she didn't sound incredibly frightened.

There was a loud bang as the door to the back compartment flew open. Nicholas immediately stood at the ready, right hand extended with his ignition cloth-gloved hand. An older man, around sixty, stood before him, keeping a blond woman behind him.

"Mother?" Nicholas asked as he saw the face of the woman behind the older man, one that so closely mirrored his own and those seen in old photographs.

"Hohenheim," Aideen said flatly.


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54 **

**_Meetings_**

Hohenheim stood behind Riza, forgetting his original anger at the woman for having run ahead, hearing the gunshots. Though the woman had never been a part of the military herself, from what Hohenheim understood of her from her husband, he knew she was a very strong woman and had always been. Hearing the gunshots, the blond-haired woman naturally went to see what was going on, to find out if there was something she could do to help a potential enemy of Eckhart.

But nothing the woman had done to try and prepare herself could have allowed her to expect this. Not anymore than Hohenheim.

After hearing each of the two teens address Riza and himself, the gray-haired man could only stand in surprise at the realization that these two were his grandchildren.

"Hohenheim?" the blond boy said to the girl. "As in… Hohenheim? Our grandfather?"

"Well, that would be the proper name for him, wouldn't it?" the girl said.

"I don't- I don't understand."

"I may have to leave it to them to explain it to you, Mrs. Mustang, but at the moment, someone needs to fly this contraption."

Hohenheim made his way to the main controls of the ship. This dirigible was designed to ensure that it could fly, even if the pilot was distracted for a period of time, but Hohenheim knew that eventually it would crash without some form of guidance, and if it didn't crash, then the various weapons being fired at it would most certainly bring it down.

"Either of you," he said to the twins, "find a way to get a signal to the ground that everything is okay, that they can stop sending off missiles at us."

The dark-haired girl went to the wall, acting as though she was trying to ignore his request, his presence even. Something was off about her, though he really wasn't sure what. He didn't know her prior to her killing Eckhart, so he had nothing to really go by. The girl was talented, as she transformed the side of the ship into a sort of megaphone and began announcing to the people below that everything was under control.

Her voice was calm, fluid, and Hohenheim hated to admit that something very familiar in it, not to mention how quickly it and its owner recovered from recent homicide, made him want to shudder.

"You called me mother," he could hear Riza saying to the boy… Nicholas, that was right, the boy's name hadn't changed. "Why?"

"As far as I can guess," Nicholas said, guiding the woman to one of the chairs, trying to calm her down, all the while the girl, whose name was a variant on her Earth counterpart's… Aideen yelled outside, "there are doubles in this world to the one you came from." Though the young man seemed to do quite well at remaining calm, it was obvious that the shock and joy at seeing his mother once again was affecting him. "My name is Nicholas. According to Frank, you have a son with that name."

"Frank's here? He went missing before Roy did."

"He's here." Nicholas laughed nervously. "I can't believe I'm actually getting to talk to you."

"But you don't look much like my Nicholas, and that is your sister, am I right?" Hohenheim couldn't see it, but his grandson must have nodded. "I have twin boys."

"Well, there were factors in our creation that weren't there with your sons'."

"You're crying."

"Huh? Oh, I guess I am. It's just… my mother, our mother died long before we could ever know her."

Hohenheim wondered if the twin's other father had truly become a politician or fuhrer as he'd intended to because the teen was able to gloss over the truth far better than the older man would have expected. "I never thought I'd get to meet, well, I know you're not her, but I… you look…"

And as Hohenheim glanced over his shoulder to see the woman embracing the young man, there was a loud thump.

"Nicholas! You damned little bastard! I treat you like an adult, like an equal during this battle, and you left me behind?"

0o0o0o0

Riza clung tightly to the boy, she didn't know better than to deny his words, and he looked so much like herself, not to mention that he had Roy's coal black eyes—even if his eyes were a different shape and his skin was a bit darker than either her or her Roy's families—but more than that, someone had just hopped aboard the vessel and was calling the teen such horrible names.

She stood up and faced down the short man with ridiculously long hair that stood in front of her.

"I don't know who you think you are to put yourself between me and—" the man's face paled as he looked up at her. "Riza! You, you're alive!"

"I don't know what business you have with this young man, but you should not call him such names," she said, trying to keep her voice calm, trying to focus on this situation, rather than the insanity of the last few hours.

"Really, it's okay," the young teen said as his sister pulled away from the wall and mouthpiece of the megaphone.

She saw the girl standing just behind the short man. The resemblance between these two was undeniable. Her eyes held the same gold tint, even if they were a bit darker with flecks of copper amidst the strange amber. Yet, she also bore resemblance to Roy. Maybe this younger man before her had been with Raine in this world, producing this girl? It was strange, but a possibility, or at least as much a possibility as anything else that Riza had witnessed.

The short man glanced around and spotted the raven-haired teen. "Aideen," he said, wrapping his arms around her, grabbing her grimacing face as he pulled it down to kiss her cheek and embrace her. "You had me worried sick," he said, looking angrily at her. "You ran off, then this happened…" The look, the tone, they were definitely that of a father. And his anger at the boy behind her made perfect sense for that of an uncle, even if the boy had called the girl a sister, except that he'd referred to Riza as looking like their mother.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Aideen answered, impassively. Was it possible that this world's Riza had married this man? But, there was no explaining the resemblance to Roy that was so evident in the girl as well.

Again, Riza felt the golden orbs on her.

"How did you get here?"

"The Thules brought her through the Gate," Hohenheim answered from the front.

"Who are… Bastard! You, you helped them come through the Gate?"

"They were coming through with or without me. I wanted to help you find Dante because I was informed by the late Frau Eckhart she was the one helping on this side." The older man hadn't taken his eyes off of the controls and was working to find a location to land.

"We know Dante's here, and we're trying to find her," the small man said.

"And for that," the young woman answered. "You risked everyone bringing those… those things here?" The girl's eyes were very cold, similar to Riza's Aiden when he got particularly angry, but with an intensity that the British woman had not seen in her boy.

"I did little more than accompany Mrs. Mustang on her journey."

"Mrs. Must— Right." The younger man seemed pained at that. "I'm Ed Elric," he said, extending a hand, which she shook. "I'd like to take more time for introductions, but…"

"I understand. I can't, well," She clapped her hands and parted them, as though playing a child's clapping game. "but I'm capable enough."

Ed nodded with a small smile of gratitude. Still, he seemed troubled. "Well, it's more or less a family trait you could say. My children inherited it from me, and I learned it through some misguided study of my _father's_ books and research."

"You mean a double of your father, as I'm a double of this world's Riza?"

"No, that man playing pilot is my father, and I'm wondering what he's doing back."

0o0o0o0

Kain had heard Aideen's voice from the vessel, and seeing as it was no longer firing at the people on the ground below, decided to believe it. He ordered his troops to cease fire, and could tell that others were doing the same. He looked down at the ground at Frank, seeing that the older man was ordering the troops in his unit would stop firing at the one remaining vehicle, as this time, the voice of Ed Elric came bellowing out.

"We have the ship! Cease fire! Repeat. We have the ship! Cease fire!"

"Trying to make contact with the ground," a voice said on Kain's radio.

"Fuery here."

"Kain?" the voice said. "I mean, Brigadier General Fuery, we have the ship." It was Nicholas. "The Thules aboard have been destroyed, mostly through the trip through the Gate. But there are other visitors, and we're going to need a landing area."

Visitors? Kain had to wonder, but this wasn't the time.

"And sir, can you make sure that Fr—Colonel Archer is there? I think one visitor in particular is going to need a genuinely familiar face.

Roy had been barking orders to his men, getting the clean-up started as he made his way to the landing site, really nothing more than a large field just outside of Central. He wasn't entirely sure who was operating this machine. He knew there were supposed "visitors" from the other side of the Gate, but guessing by the way the dirigible was flying, he wouldn't have said the current pilot was a very skilled one.

He watched as the thing made a lumbering descent to the ground, Roy's stomach feeling somewhere in his throat as he realized that the people he cared about were all aboard. He'd heard Aideen and Ed both over the loudspeaker, and Kain had notified him that Nicholas had managed to contact him over the radio.

Frank stood at Roy's side, apparently, someone on board knew Frank, not as the Archer from Amestris but Frank the spy of England.

Roy glanced up at the man at his side, finding a set of blue eyes looking intently at him. "You know, there are any number of people it could be," Frank said, his accent coming out more clearly as the noise of the blimp coming toward the ground kept his words from being easily heard. "Are you prepared for any possibility?"

Roy said nothing, merely sending him a glare, which he hoped sent the message that, of course, he'd considered all possibilities—not that it was true, or that his glare was more at the man for finding him out.

As the thing landed quite bumpily ahead of them, Roy only half glanced at the teen still at his side. There was genuine concern on Phillip Armstrong's face. Though he was still furious with the boy, a fact that as an overprotective father would never change, he realized that Phillip obviously cared for Aideen. It was a shame for him, Roy supposed, that Aideen didn't and might never reciprocate those feelings.

No sooner had a hatch-like door opened on the side of the thing than a gray-haired man exited beside Ed, who for whatever reason looked as though he was going to his executioner. Roy looked at the man again, this time, not failing to see the resemblance between his still-young husband and the long-haired man at his side. He hadn't had many encounters with him, but he knew this was Hohenheim, and that seemed to explain some of the younger man's expression.

Yet, as Ed's eyes darted behind him, his head turning just slightly behind him, Roy saw the twins, both looking perfectly healthy, flanking a middle-aged woman.

Still, nothing had sunk in just yet as he ran to his family.

"Ed, are you okay?" he asked. "Did the Thules do anything to you?"

"No injuries. And Aideen's the one who took down the Thule leader." Roy squeezed his husband's shoulder, nodded to Hohenheim, and went back to his children, pulling them both into his arms.

"Are you okay? Both of you?" He felt two nodding heads, wondering why neither had given him a verbal answer, but all musing on it stopped when the woman that had been between the teens looked up and said only one word.

"Roy?"

And with that one word, with the sight of someone he could never have prepared himself to see again, Roy swore everything was crumbling around him.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher was torn between his worry over his older brother and the young woman he'd fallen for. As Aideen was with her parents and her brother, Fletcher chose to focus his attention on Russell, who stood beside him, an absolute nervous wreck.

"I'm going underground," Russell said, his eyes asking the question that his mouth wouldn't ask: "Will you come with me?"

Fletcher nodded to his brother. "Well, you're not doing it alone."

"Well, anything happens to you, just know I didn't ask you to come."

"Of course you didn't, Russell."

With a few commanding words to soldiers who were almost entirely outranked by the two majors—save for one genuine major and a lieutenant colonel—the brothers made their way to the entrance of the underground city.

Every soldier that passed by, Russell questioned them about Wrath, every street, every building, the two brothers began to search, seemingly in vain, as nothing as yet had turned up any sign of Russell's lover and Fletcher's friend. And while Fletcher had been trying to keep a level head about this for his brother's sake, he had to admit that the feeling currently eating away at his stomach didn't seem to bode well for the object of their search.

"Wrath! Where are you?" Fletcher heard his brother's voice call out from one of the streets. "Wrath! Answer me!"

There were choked sobs in the older brother's voice, and all Fletcher could hope for was the day, years from now, when he'd get to use that to tease his brother. He'd sit next to Wrath and Russell on a sofa in a new apartment, where they'd be celebrating this anniversary or that, and he'd tell Wrath just how emotional the usually stoic man became. He wanted to be able to tease him, to have that future ahead, where the two men he considered family would be sitting in some sickeningly loving pose while Wrath laughed at Russell for being stupidly concerned over his well-being, Russell attempted to knock the crap out of the dark-haired man, and Fletcher got to sit and watch and be grateful.

Any other future was unthinkable, even to him.

0o0o0o0

Frank pulled Riza aside and into the back of one of the ambulances. She was reluctant to go, asking questions about Roy, Roy looking as torn as he'd ever seen the experience military and political man appear.

"Frank, what's going on? What happened to Roy's eye?"

"I'll explain all of that in time," he said, helping her step up into the ambulance and taking a seat opposite her.

"You are really our Frank, aren't you?"

"I hope so," he said, with a smile. "The one from this world was a real asshole." Riza gasped at the somewhat vulgar word. "Sorry. It's a little more acceptable here to use that kind of language. But considering the other Frank scarred up Roy's eye like that, it seems appropriate, don't you think?"

"You're wearing one of their uniforms."

"I didn't really think I would get the chance to go back, and honestly, I didn't really want to." He pounded on the wall of the driver's compartment as a signal to go. "There are a lot of things you need to know, Riza—"

"Your hand," she said, looking down. "A wedding ring?"

"Yes. I found someone here. And, I suppose that is as good a start as any to prepare you. You see, aside from the cursing, other things are acceptable here as well. The biggest being that men like me, who in our world never found any desire to marry a woman, find they have another option when it comes to wedded bliss, just as women in similar positions do as well."

"You mean you've married another…" She looked so disgusted that it was obvious it was preventing her from finishing that sentence or thought.

"His name is Kain, and I've never been so happy."

"But it's sinful; it's forbidden."

"Not here."

"So, aside from the fact that there was something I didn't know about my husband's commanding officer, what does this have to do with me?"

"You met the twins, didn't you? And Ed?" Riza nodded her response to both questions. "Well, did you happen to notice their resemblance to three people? To you, Roy, and Ed?" Riza merely bit her lip. "Well, I don't know the logistics of it very well, but I assume it's better for me to tell you this than someone else."

0o0o0o0

Raine poked her head into the bedroom. "Juliana, sweetheart?"

A set of frightened blue eyes looked up at her beneath a fringe of red bangs. "Have you seen mommy or grandpapa?"

"Not yet," Raine said, doing everything she could to keep her face as impassive as possible when his stomach was flipping and tying itself in knots. "Do you need any more crayons or paper?"

"No," she said, shaking the head of ginger hair. "I don't…" Her little pink lip quivered. "I don't want to draw so much now."

Raine knelt down and hugged the little girl. "I know you are worried, but I need you to stay here for now."

"Okay, Grandmama."

Raine released the little girl who might as well have been blood relation to her and once again left her in the office. She returned to the clinic, looking over the sea of wounded civilians and military men, wondering where to start.

Yet another man was brought in, this one somewhat heftier than the others, though his body didn't look injured, or even as though he'd been part of the battle.

"We found him," a lieutenant said. "It looked like he'd been knocked out and shoved in the janitor's closet." Raine glanced down to find the man was Heymans Breda. "In triage, his condition might not be a top priority, but we need to know who did it. We might have an enemy among our ranks."

Placing her hands on Breda's head as he was set on a nearby cot, Dr. Mustang watched as the man opened his eyes with a loud groan escaping his lips.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Who did this to you, Heymans?"

"Raine? Oh, it was a first lieutenant in my unit, not even a second in command." There was another groan. "David Patterson."

"Patterson, sir? When you went missing he took over control of the missile command."

"Well, that would seem to explain a few things, wouldn't it?" Breda said with a bit of angry sarcasm. "Goddamn, Raine, can't you do anything for the pain?"

Raine smiled at her boyfriend's friend before placing her hands on his forehead and releasing natural painkillers until she heard a definite sigh of relief from the man.

"You two!" Breda said. "Find Patterson and get his ass locked away. Now."

"Yes sir, General, sir!" the two men said as they saluted and fled from the clinic.

While working on triage once again with several other doctors in the clinic, Raine spotted a gray head coming through the doors. She tried to focus on what she was doing, but got a nod from one of the other doctors to go to her boyfriend.

"Vato?" Raine said, seeing the older man shaking as he leaned against the doorframe.

"I got a call…"

"Vato, are you okay?"

"No. Yes. I… I just got word that…" And with that, he clung to Raine's shoulders, sobbing. "I'm going to have to tell Juliana…" Again, he sobbed.

"Tell her what?"

"She is… my daughter… Kathy… one of the blimps fired… she…"

"Vato, is Kathy, was she…"

"She's dead. Havoc's troops found her."

It was then that a set of arms wrapped around both of them, a large hand patting Vato's back. "Tell me what you need me to do, Falman," Breda said. "Name it."

There was no answer, but Raine felt Breda was already doing it.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas couldn't remember a time when his parents had been so quiet. Though both were obviously angry at him and his sister for being reckless, he couldn't help but wonder if the presence of his other mother might have had a lot to do with the current state of things between them as they sat in the military vehicle headed back to Central.

Looking between his two fathers, he saw a silent, shocked expression on his papa's face and one of incredible dread on his dad's. It was nerve-wracking to say the least, not to mention that Aideen was still behaving strangely. He couldn't help it, but even after what she'd just gone through, after she had killed for the first time, he found himself angry at her yet again.

Instead, he focused his attention on his dad, who sat at his side, putting his arm around the smaller man and trying to pretend as though it was he who needed this and not his father.

0o0o0o0

Dante sat, watching as Nicholas eyed her warily. She had grown to despise him as much as his father, at times, even more. After all, the young Mustang seemed to have a sixth sense about Dante, and she certainly didn't like it.

Still, as she glanced across from her at the sight of the brat, Dante could little help but egg things on. The presence of the other Roy's wife was causing some disturbance for Ed Elric, and Dante wondered just how far it could go.

"Papa?" she asked, taking the tone she's learned from a lifetime as part of this family. "Are we going to get to see our mother again?"

"She's not our mother," Nicholas said. "She just looks like her."

"But she's the closest we'll ever get to it." Dante patted her hand on Roy's shoulder. "And you're going to see her again, aren't you?" It took every bit of self-control that she possessed not to twist Aideen's face into a smirk as she saw Ed squirm.

"As fuhrer, I have to." Roy stared down at the radio in his hand. "It might not be a bad idea to have all of us go, but only if we think Riza, um, Mrs. Must… if we think she can handle it."

Then, as though Roy staring at the radio had made it go off, the thing began going off again, an call for the capture of David Patterson.

Doing her best, Dante tried to focus on the fact that she was playing the part of the daughter, and couldn't give the attention to the fact that Patterson had been one of the men she'd enlisted. Apparently, he had been a poor choice on her part, if he would do something so stupid. It was supposed to be a subtle takeover of control for this battle, not bludgeoning someone on the head and tossing them in a closet. She would have to find a way to dispose of the useless man.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55 **

**_Confusion and Scheming _**

****

**_The next day_**

Jean Havoc stood at the bus depot, holding onto Gracia's face as tightly as possible.

"You need to go, please, for my sake." The general kissed her tenderly, then turned to his son. "James, you and your mother both need to take care of one another, not to mention your sister and brother-in-law."

"But, Dad, I don't understand why we have to go to the encampments outside of town."

"Because you are not safe in Central right now, and until they're sure who is organizing all of this, you can't go to the other cities." Jean hugged his boy, ruffling the sandy-colored hair, much as the young adolescent hated it. "Besides, the fuhrer's seen to it that the encampments have everything you could need."

"Will Aideen and Nicholas be there?"

"No, as alchemists, they're old enough to stay behind and help." Again, he ruffled the boy's hair. "But all five of the Elric children will be going. Rose and your mother are going to help to take care of them since their parents are staying behind as well."

"Sasha will be there?" James asked with undisguised enthusiasm.

"Yes, she will." Jean pressed his lips to the dark blond head of hair and stood to talk to his daughter—even if it wasn't by blood—and son-in-law. "And there will be doctors there. Good ones."

Elysia rubbed her very large stomach. "I'm hoping I'll get to have Michael in Central."

"Well, Dr. Knox will be at the encampment with you, and he delivered the twins. At least you're in good hands." Jean put a hand on the rounded stomach, feeling just the faintest movement from inside from his soon-to-be grandson. "But I'd like to be there when the little guy is born."

"So would I." Elysia did her best to hug Jean despite her very rounded stomach. Though they'd had arguments when she'd been a teenager, the relationship between Jean and the young woman and become one of the genuine family.

"And you, Thomas," he said to Elysia's husband, a man so similar in appearance to Maes Hughes, it was almost painful to witness, "take care of her."

"Always." Thomas shook Jean's hand just as firmly and seriously as he had when he'd begun dating Elysia and assured the man that he had only the best intentions for the young woman.

"So, I am cleared to leave the hospital?" Riza asked Frank, who had been sitting in silence for some time.

"Yes. The question is where are you going to stay until they can get the Gate open again and you can return to your family." He patted her hand, looking at the woman he'd known for so many years and knew cared about her family dearly. "Kain and I have an extra room, but I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable." And yet, despite himself, he couldn't seem to help making this little dig at her, even at this weak moment. Moments like these, he felt more in touch with his Amestris double, and he loathed it.

"Don't take that tone with me!" she said, glaring at him. "I have a family that's at home, guns to their head, and you're here taking offense to my way of thinking. It may be wrong here, but it was how I was raised, Frank Archer. And though you've been here for almost seven years, it was how you were raised too." Riza closed her eyes and bit her upper lip. "It isn't that I'm not trying to understand, but Frank you're trying to give me just over twenty-four hours to accept that you are married to a man, and that Roy is as well. And honestly Frank," she said, her voice rising. "I'm having trouble accepting that this man is not my own husband with this other man."

"I know, Riza," he said, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "That's why I want you to meet someone." Frank turned to the door and yelled out. "You can come in now."

The door clicked open, and Kain stepped through, a warm, if not nervous, expression on his face.

"Hello, Riza," Kain said, holding out a hand. She took it, and they held clasped hands for a moment, not shaking them, just that instant connection the younger man always had when he met others. He released her hand and sat opposite her in the seat where Frank had been sitting. "I'm Kain."

Riza looked over at Frank, who nodded to her unasked question of confirmation that this was _his_ Kain.

"I know this is a lot to take in, and that you have to be worried sick about your family, but no one is going to stop working to make sure things can be set right." He smiled at her kindly, looking over at Frank with the same soft expression for just a moment, before his eyes returned to his dead friend's double. "I knew the Riza of this world, and I can tell you what you want to know, within reason. She was a relatively private person. I don't even know if the fuhrer knew her entirely, and they loved one another.

"I know Frank explained to you that those things don't matter here, and I hope you will keep that in mind to accept our offer of our home to you." Again, Kain warmly smiled at Frank.

That gentle look didn't go unnoticed by the other person in the room. "You two really do love one another."

With a smirk and sarcasm worthy of the leader of Amestris, Kain answered, "That tends to be an important reason people get married."

Raine stood beside Vato, who clung tightly to the sleeping body to their granddaughter—yes, she'd finally given in and accepted the girl as such despite the fact that it still made her feel old.

"What do we do with her?" Raine asked. "The bit—" She purposely cut herself off, afraid that Juliana might hear. "Your ex-wife is too afraid to head to Central with all that's been happening and certainly won't stay in one of the encampments. Juliana's father gave up all rights to her the moment he realized Kathy was pregnant. Neither of us can go, and the poor little thing hasn't wanted to be too far away from at least one of us since…"

"No," Vato said, hugging the little red-headed girl on his lap. "She's going to have to stay here. I don't think we have much choice." He kissed the little carrot top. "We'll have to ask for an exception from your brother." He sighed. "It isn't as though we'd be the only ones."

Raine kissed him at his temple and ran her hand over the red-orange curls. "I've got to get back to the hospital. Thankfully I get to stay there with the living and not join the doctors analyzing the dead. Speaking of which, they found Patterson, the one who hurt Breda. He'd hanged himself out of guilt over his actions."

"Can't say I consider it a loss."

"Neither do I." Raine picked up her white lab coat. "Well, I suppose I'll be off. Tell the little one I'm just a phone call away if she needs to talk to me while I'm at the hospital."

"Speaking of the hospital, how is Russell?"

"Hopefully still unconscious. He was getting dangerous." Fletcher had been forced to order the capture of his own brother and have him sedated. Russell had grown almost violent as the day had passed and no word, not even the discovery of the large man's body had been received.

"And still no sign of Wrath?"

She shook her head. "None."

Dante sat in the guest room, looking up at Hohenheim. Nicholas up until this point had been dominating the conversation, but the teen had left to get his automail inspected and then got to meet the fuhrer at the hospital. Personally, Dante would have liked to have gone right along with him, for no other reason than to get away from Hohenheim, but she knew it would look suspicious if she avoided Hohenheim's presence without at least some explanation, and the family insisted she stay at home for her safety, particularly if there were signs of flashbacks or the final breaking "remorse."

She hoped the brat would come back to question his old man more. That, at least was entertaining. Unfortunately, Ed was involved in the clean-up and recovery efforts, as was Al, who'd ridden on the ambulance to the hospital with Hohenheim after his initial arrival. They'd gotten the basic information that was needed, knowing that the Thules would be making another attempt at the Gate if they heard nothing from their leader. Dante had been pleased to hear this, since it meant that there were still more weapons she could learn and incorporate into Amestris's current capabilities. She would need to make contact with the remaining members of that society and convince them to follow her, that she had the best interests of the group and their efforts toward reaching Shamballa at heart.

That meant re-opening the Gate somewhat more subtly than before. Not that she hadn't done that countless times before. Despite Hohenheim's presence, Dante smiled at herself. It truly was amazing how easy it was to escape from the mansion, and how trusting other children were of her in this form, or at least how trusting they used to be. Aideen Mustang had become something of a frightening figure as of late, but that hardly mattered anymore. This was a bit of an experiment on Dante's part, but she believed she could now open the Gate without having to use some baby or snot-nosed brat—not that she'd minded using Nicholas the first time she'd contacted the Thules, which had been dismissed as a terrible nightmare brought on by the poisoning.

"You are rather quiet, but smiling," Hohenheim said. "Something pleasant?"

"Just imagining the moment you leave." Dante had let that slip and cursed herself for it at first, until she saw that the words had a stinging effect on Hohenheim, who seemed none the wiser that he was not speaking to his granddaughter. She had rather enjoyed making the brat squirm yesterday, and wondered if she should push her luck with her former lover. "Really, it's a talent of yours I've yet to see."

"Excuse me?" the older man said. Dante met his gaze, thinking how strange it was to see Hohenheim with wrinkles and gray hair.

"Leaving." She said, looking away from him, focusing her eyes on some unknown point beyond the wall opposite her. "You left Dad and Uncle Al, you left this world, and even before all that, you left Dante and Envy." In her peripheral vision, she could see the somewhat surprised look on his face, trying to keep her expression as impassive as ever, despite the fact that she knew she'd trod on dangerous territory here. "I've spent a good part of my life researching alchemy and everything I could find on it. That bit of information didn't slip my study."

Hohenheim's eyes narrowed.

"It could be worse," Dante said, attempting damage control. "I could call you that bastard, or the son of a bitch like Dad still does."

And there it was, a closely guarded but still there look of remorse. Dante knew well enough that Ed had used such fond terms for his father, and knew that by bringing those back up, it would hurt the man. Really, Dante found herself disappointed that this body would only last a few decades, because she truly loved the power—both alchemical and emotional in regards to her family—that Aideen possessed. In any other form, she couldn't have gotten away with tormenting Hohenheim, not any more than she could have the comments about wanting to talk to her "mother" the night before.

There was also the concern that there would never be another body so powerful. It wasn't as though she couldn't, dare she term it, breed, but honestly, the strongest male alchemists were all blood related, and much as Dante sought power, she had no desire to have an extra head or some other birth defect in her new body.

"You seem to drift off into thought often. You may think I'm terrible, but you don't have any questions for me?"

Feeling that if she didn't soon ask some question that would be normal for a granddaughter, Dante looked up at Hohenheim. "Tell me about my grandmother."

It was, after all, a question she had long been curious about, how an ordinary woman, with no alchemic ability whatsoever could manage to attract the affections of one as skilled as Hohenheim. The man started droning on about how beautiful and sweet the other woman was, even daring to compare Tricia Elric to Dante on a few occasions, Dante herself coming out the worse for each comparison. Feeling she would likely have a nasty outburst if she continued to listen to the man's pleasant recollections of Tricia Elric, Dante began focusing on contacting the other side of the Gate. After all, the massive force of using Wrath's whole body had broken all wards and dampeners and the Gate could easily be opened from anywhere in Central—lately, she'd had to find places relatively close to the location in the underground city.

She was also going to have to see to Tucker. He was getting anxious for the redstones, the only thing left in preparations for the creation of the homunculus of his daughter.

"Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

"I don't think so. I'm sure you must be tired from having Nicholas ask you dozens of questions this morning, and Dad will be back soon. Get some rest." Really, Dante felt she deserved an award for her acting ability.

0o0o0o0

Russell felt like someone had dropped a ton of bricks on his head, one by one. His eyes opened to a very white room, almost like one in a hospital. He didn't understand. The very last thing he remembered was threatening a sergeant who was of absolutely no help in trying to find Wrath. Then his brother… Fletcher.

It came back to him, and with a near-feral growl, Russell remembered that his little brother had injected him with something, knocked him out with a tranquilizer.

"Russell? Are you awake?"

"You damned traitor!" Russell yelled, turning as much as he could, finding restraints on his arms, waist and legs. "You little son of a bitch!"

"Yell all you want, but I'm not letting you go until you calm yourself."

"Calm myself? What the hell good is it doing having me here when I should be looking for Wrath. He could be injured or thinking I've abandoned him, and it will be your fault!"

"Russell, you were out of control, functioning on nothing but coffee and worry. You were growing so violent you nearly hurt the sergeant you were arguing at, and I say arguing _at_ because the poor man looked stunned and never said a word as you berated him."

"But we still haven't found him yet."

"Yes, Russell, but there are a lot of people who haven't been found, and as much as we both would like Wrath to be the sole priority, he isn't. There are other people who have not been recovered, and the military is working very hard to find them all."

Despite himself, Russell could feel the tears stinging his eyes. "But it isn't fair." And before another word left his mouth, Fletcher was undoing the straps and wrapping his arms around his older brother.

"I know it isn't." Without thought, Russell collapsed into the embrace of those twig-like arms and returned it.

"I just don't want to be the one who has to carry on. I don't think I can."

"I know you can, but I really hope you don't have to."

0o0o0o0

Ed worked alongside Al to reconstruct some of the buildings that had contained wards which been destroyed, not because Central was really ready to be rebuilt just yet, but beneath these buildings were the wards that would let the brothers know just how bad the damage had been and if they could block the connection to the Gate.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Al?"

"Absolutely." The taller brother ran a hand through his brown hair before returning to his work. "Someone has to, and I've seen worse." He knelt beside Ed as they laid their hands over a pile of rubble, the older brother grateful that this one, at least didn't have any signs of human remains in the components the two could detect with their alchemy. "I'm a grown man, Brother—Ed." Ed smiled at this little correction, his brother's attempt at showing how mature he was. "I've seen much worse. I think you just like to forget that I have."

Ed nodded. "I still feel strange about leaving the twins with Hohenheim."

"Father," Al corrected. "He made a sacrifice for us by drawing Envy into the Gate."

"I'm not calling him other colorful names. That's my compromise."

Al rolled his large brown eyes before they both clapped their hands and laid them on the pile of stone and dust, transforming it back into the dentist's office it had once been. "Thirteen down," Al said. "Fifty more to go."

Ed only barely heard his brother, as his mind was drifting off to the fact that Roy would be visiting this Riza. The faint smile he'd had at his brother's tiny joke didn't last long as the damned worry that had been nagging him since her appearance once again showed itself, much to his distaste. What won out? Was it the person who'd loved him longest or the person who'd loved him first? And why the hell was he so damned insecure? This woman wasn't even the Riza of this world. Besides, he'd married Roy, given birth—he'd like to see another man try it—to two beautiful children, and loved the man more than he'd expected he could, so why the hell was he still so worried about being left or abandoned? What the hell did it matter that their relationship started because of the twins and the pregnancy? That didn't

Al, always the more sensitive brother, put his arm around Ed's shoulders as they moved to the next area of destruction, realizing as they sensed human remains that they weren't going to have it as easy with this pile as they had with the last.

0o0o0o0

Frank pulled Kain into the cover of an archway, the younger man looking up at him.

"Frank, what is it?"

Almost instantly, his husband was grabbing Kain and smashing their lips together. "Just making sure you're really okay. I've only gotten to see you today in the hospital. Though, I'm beginning to realize more and more why having members of the military involved is frowned upon."

Kain trailed his knuckles against Frank's cheek, noticing that slight inclination the older man had to lean into his touch. "We really need to get back to work. And you need a shave."

Frank cupped Kain's face in his hand. "Could say the same for you."

"So, Riza seemed more open to the ideas of this world," Kain said.

"I hope so. If she can't go back, it's going to be difficult for her." Frank's blue eyes practically twinkled. "You know, I do believe that you made a good impression on her."

"Well, she seemed shocked that I'd turned you into a softy."

"You have not, you smug little—mmph!" But before Frank could finish that statement, Kain pulled Frank down into a kiss. "Oh, come on. We have to get back to our troops now that we've done our business with Riza."

Nicholas stood in the waiting room with his father. "Nicholas," his papa said, "maybe you should stay out here. I know Frank and Kain talked to her, but I'm not sure—"

"You're not sending me away. If she can't accept that you and Dad are together, then that just proves she's not Mom, doesn't it? I mean, if she can't accept you, then odds are she won't accept me either, and I know that my mother would have."

"Nicholas, you'll be looking at the face of your mother, possibly saying things that are going to be hard to hear."

"Papa, it isn't going to change my opinion of Mom. But I'm not going to pass up the chance to see her, hear her, even if what she's saying isn't exactly kind any more than I turned down the chance to watch the reel of you two receiving your awards from Ishbal to get to see her, despite the terrible circumstances." Nicholas grabbed his father's sleeve, looking just slightly down at the eyes the same color as his own. "And you can't tell me that it wouldn't hurt for you to have someone there for support."

Nicholas found himself falling under skeptical gaze. "At what point did you grow up?"

"Oh, I have my moments," Nicholas answered with a smile.

Trailing his father closely, nodding to Ross that they would protect one another and that she and the other guards wouldn't be necessary. The commander agreed that she wouldn't go in with them, but it was obvious she would be listening at the door.

The two Mustangs walked into the room, finding a pair of coppery eyes following them as they made their way to a set of chairs near the bed where Riza Mustang sat. Nicholas found himself twitching, nervous to keep himself under control at the idea of finally meeting his mother, more or less.

"Hello," Riza said, extending her hand to Nicholas, and more reluctantly, to his father.

"I'm hoping that Frank and Kain explained things to you," Nicholas's papa said, his tone more like that of a fuhrer than a former lover, and honestly, Nicholas was glad. It showed that he was here to speak to her on an official capacity.

"They did, and if it hadn't been for the photographs you provided, I would have said they were barmy." The woman looked at Roy. "So the small blond man, he actually carried the twins?"

Both Nicholas and his father nodded.

And, the two began a gradual explanation of events on Riza's part and discussion over what to do next and how to try to return her to her time, all the while, Nicholas found his knees drawing up to his chest and resting on the chair, allowing him to watch the woman more carefully and listen to the sound of her voice. It was just as he'd imagined. It was stern, but not angry, calm but not emotionless, except when she spoke of her family. Then and only then did it turn impassioned and worried, just as he'd imagined his own mother's would when talking about or trying to protect him or Aideen.

"I'm going to help my dad with the Gate. I'm old enough now," Nicholas said. "We'll try to help your family however we can."

And as though she was finally paying close attention to him, Riza leaned forward and grabbed hold of Nicholas's left wrist. "Your hand."

"Got that when I was thirteen after I was bitten by, well, we'll say a big lizard." He stood and sat beside her on the bed so she could look over it better. "Did you notice my Dad has one too, plus a leg? Helped me get through a lot to know he had gone through it all himself."

It amazed Riza as he flexed and manipulated his automail, explaining that his Dad had gotten his much earlier in life, and had taught him everything about it, how to use alchemy with it, and how to cope. Finally, Nicholas thought, or at least hoped, that she might be coming along, because honestly, there was a good chance she might have to stay here.

0o0o0o0

Roy had sent Nicholas home after talking with Riza. It amazed the father how much his boy was able to calm the woman, to make even her most uncomfortable questions seem like nothing, as he answered them with ease. It had been agreed that she would stay with Frank and Kain, as she was already familiar with Frank and had taken to Kain. Tomorrow, Roy was to bring Ed to meet her. Despite it all, despite her upbringing, it seemed to have been Nicholas's arm that convinced her more than anything anyone could say to her. When Nicholas had shown her his arm and explained that he'd coped with the horrible reality of having the automail installed largely because Ed had been there, something maternal in her took over.

It was as though she had accepted Ed, not because he was Roy's husband or that Roy loved him, but because that young man, despite all her prejudices, despite everything that apparently still told her this was wrong, had raised and cared for her two children, or what would have essentially been her two children. Though many would have questioned if that was necesary, Roy knew that having her able to cope would only serve as a benefit. They couldn't have her disrupting thigns more than necessary as they tried to deal with this recent opening of the Gate.

Roy made his way through the darkened house, checking first on Aideen, who seemed to be sound asleep on her bed. He moved then to Nicholas's room, finding the same thing there. Bypassing his own door, Roy climbed the stairs to the guest room, finding that even Hohenheim seemed to have reached that point of deep and heavy breathing that comes only with relaxing sleep.

Finally, feeling as though he could settle down, himself, Roy made his way to the bedroom he gladly shared with his husband. He opened the door, finding Ed was sitting, reading yet another alchemic text. It didn't surprise Roy, really. After the opening of the Gate, after it all, Ed had thrown himself into his work, and already shared his guilt with the older man who was just as ashamed that it couldn't have been stopped and that their daughter had taken another's life for the first time. They had talked to her, and found her coping frighteningly well, but it was a simple fact that the gnawing sensation in Roy's gut wouldn't go away, a sensation that kept screaming that something more was wrong here.

"So, you talked to her, Nicholas said."

"Yes," Roy said as he kicked off his shoes. "I talked to her." There was only a nod from the bed as a fuhrer's jacket was thrown into a wash pile along with the ridiculous flaps that covered the lower half of Roy's body. "Are you okay, Ed?"

"I'm fine, Roy. Just trying to find out what else I can do, how we can make contact with the you on the other side and get the Gate closed permanently."

Roy wasn't dense. He knew that his husband was also trying to find a way to ensure that Riza could go back through to do it. "Let me know what I can do to help."

"You've got a lot on your plate right now," Ed said almost faintly. "Al and I are working on it, and Nicholas has offered, too. I've decided I'm going to include him more on things like this."

"And Aideen?"

"She hasn't shown much interest, but after what happened with the Thules, I'd rather she just be able to find some way that her life can go back to normal and maybe actually accept the fact that she… that she's killed someone."

"You know, we're going to need to have Raine take a look at her as soon as things have settled down. I don't want any health risks, either from the attack or…" Roy couldn't complete the thought, the idea that Aideen might have contracted something or possibly suffered another consequence of the unprotected sex with Phillip Armstrong.

Again, there was only a nod from Ed.

Though he was still clothed, Roy climbed into the bed beside his reading husband, kneeling at his side. "Ed, talk to me."

"I thought I was." Roy took the book from him, leaving the thing open as he left it spread open, spine cracking a bit as he laid it on the bed. "Don't. You'll ruin it like that. It damages the spine."

"Ed." Roy grabbed Ed's chin and turned his face to him. "Talk to me. I know you've felt guilty about Aideen, that you're upset you couldn't prevent something that obviously we weren't meant to prevent, and you're worried about Wrath and Russell, but there's more than that here, Ed. I know you too well. Now talk."

"Riza's here, Roy. And as ashamed as I am to say it, I hate that she is. I worry that she is." The gold eyes looked at him defiantly. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I'm afraid that she'll take everything I have away from me? Because, I'll tell you, I haven't felt much like I'm deserving of this life since I've failed to protect it so many times this far."

"You have done everything you could. More than anyone else is capable of. And now, with Hohenheim here to offer insight, perhaps you can put differences aside for once."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Only for my children would I put up with that son of a bitch."

"That's right, Ed, for your kids." Roy kissed the smaller man lightly. "Our children."

And with that, Roy moved his hand and started unbuttoning the white dress shirt, grateful that for once, he'd forgotten an undershirt.

"Roy, what do you think you're doing? Do you honestly think I could be in the mood for—" Roy grabbed hold of Ed's left hand and put it beneath the shirt, holding it flatly over his heart.

"Yours Ed, for seventeen years now, you've had it. Do you think this new Riza could shake it?" Roy moved his left hand to rub over his husband's ear. "Much as I love our Riza still, even if she had been the one to walk off that vessel it wouldn't have changed that."

Ed's hand still resting over Roy's heart, they moved together again in a much more firm and passionate kiss.

"And don't you dare try to put all this on yourself. I'm the fuhrer. If anyone is supposed to make sure that this country and this city are supposed to stay safe, it's me. Understand?"

There was a slight bow of Ed's head in acknowledgement followed by a few moments of silence before the younger man grabbed hold of Roy's left hand and placed it in a corresponding place to where Ed's still rested on the pale chest. "Yours too." Then, as they sat there, kneeling opposite one another like this for some time, Ed spoke again. "We'll get through this, Roy. We have to."

"Of course we will. Together." Roy moved away from Ed only long enough to remove his pants before he laid down beside Ed, pulling him into his arms. "We'll need our rest if we're going to function at all tomorrow to relieve the night reconstruction crew."

"Roy?"

"Hmm?"

"Kain, he came over and talked to Hohenheim. Did he think it helped at all?"

"He was able to give Kain a few more of Dante's habits along with what we already knew."

"Oh. Good." Roy pulled Ed against his chest, not letting the smaller man see the fact that he was crying, though he didn't really know at what, or if it could really be specified to one thing. His daughter had been forced to take a life. A ghost from his past had shown up and was only barely as understanding as the real Riza had been. All evidence pointed to the fact that Wrath was dead. He had failed to protect Central once again. His husband actually thought he'd leave him for that Riza doppelganger. Dante was still out there somewhere and probably still seeking out Aideen.

Roy resigned himself to a tearful sleep as he realized pinpointing the exact source of his tears wouldn't be easy.

0o0o0o0

Shou Tucker watched in awe as once again Dante made her way into the underground tunnels that she, herself, had created. He had long been aware of who she was, but he would never have assumed her to be quite the acrobat that she was, despite being in Aideen Mustang's body. She showed no signs of the rotting he knew from study were commonplace if the soul was too weak to sustain life any longer. He had to wonder just what, exactly, was keeping this body not only alive but incredibly fit and strong.

"Well, Mr. Tucker," she said as she stood in front of him, "I suppose you're waiting on the redstones."

He watched as she uncurled a closed fist, showing him three of the powerful things. "Hopefully, we'll be able to get more soon, but to guarantee that, I'm going to have to open up the Gate again to send a message through."

Tucker looked around for any sign of a child or baby, what he knew was her usual technique.

"No need for that any longer," she said with a smug grin, one that frighteningly reminded him of her host's elder father. With a move Tucker wasn't familiar with, hands clasped over her abdomen then her heart, the portal, no larger than a manhole cover opened up in the floor. She pulled out a large metal tube and dropped it through the opening. The movement she'd made before was repeated, and the opening closed.

"Another letter?"

"To the remaining Thules and the other Roy who's been forcibly opening the Gate for them. I've just informed them that their leader has been captured by our evil fuhrer, along with Riza Mustang, and that weapons and possibly additional troops would need to be sent through in two days time when we can plan a 'coup.'"

"You're really going to do this, kill the men who raised you?" Tucker was already planning to go to great lengths to ensure his daughter came back to him, so the idea that this woman, in the form of the fuhrer and Elric's daughter would so easily do away with them, reached what little humanity was left in the man.

"They didn't raise me. They just ensured I reached an age where I could survive on my own." Again, she held the red stones where he could see them. "Are you ready to try this, Mr. Tucker, or do I save these stones for a more worthy servant?"


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56 **

**_Wrath _**

"How the hell long are you going to keep me here?" he yelled with three successive pounds to the doorway of the Gate. "I'm getting bored damn it!"

For what felt like the hundredth time since he'd ended up here, Wrath paced the area before the Gate. "Are you ever listening? _Can_ you listen? Look, not that I want to be dead or anything, but this…"

Wrath waved to the blankness around him. "I have watched people who were killed go by me one after another, and you won't let me go through. Because I'd just as well go back to Russell to be with him and tell Roy and Ed that little bit of information that really, you should have shared if you're just going to keep me here."

Admittedly, he didn't want to cross through the doors he'd kicked, punched and cursed at for the last… however long he'd been there, but Wrath was growing frustrated with being kept in this state of limbo.

"If I'm dead, then why the hell are you keeping me here?" He had someone he loved that he wanted to be with.

He didn't understand it. A battle, a rather large one, had taken place, and numerous Thules had been killed. He knew this because he'd seen the spirits of the dead pass through the Gate as he'd still been unable—and unwilling—to do. He also failed to understand why he felt so much more cognizant of everything around him when the other spirits had not. He'd seen them, even taunted the hell out of that bitch Eckhart when he'd seen her headed toward a fiery-looking end on the other side of the Gate.

Was there hope for him to go back? Was it possible because he wasn't as far gone as the others? Was he waiting here for a reason, for someone to bring him back?

He shook his head. There was no point to hope.

Wrath had heard of the stages of mourning, which he supposed he'd gone through in his solitude here, and he'd be damned if he'd go back to denial. He was at the Gate because Aideen… NO, not Aideen. Dante. Dante had killed him.

Dante had used him to open the Gate and bring the Thules through.

But he'd never shake the look on her face when she'd done it, as she stood over his body for just the slightest of moments, he'd seen remorse in those copper and gold depths. He knew from experience that Dante was not capable of such an emotion.

"So, are you male or female?" he asked the Gate. "I just want to know whether to call you a son of a bitch or just a bitch."

"So, you are resorting to names now?"

Wrath fell on his ass, unceremoniously and rather embarrassingly. "You, you talked. To me! I thought Ed was the only one who could manage it because he was so powerful during the pregnancy."

"That is part of it," the voice said impassively, its tones somewhere between male and female. "But his power came from two beings not yet of the world, one of whom never really solidified his own attachment to it." If it was possible, Wrath would have expected the Gate to sigh. "Which is why you are able to communicate with me now."

"In other words, I'm dead," he said, his voice raspy with that statement.

"Yes."

"There's no going back? I mean, I have a form here. I'm not, not like them." He pointed to another arriving spirit, this one a military cadet Wrath had seen once with Armstrong's son. The young man's spirit was barely cognitive of its surroundings. The Gate opened to this one, revealing a light that seemed to engulf the spirit waiting at the doors. Despite himself, he thought how pleasant that light looked, how embracing.

At that thought, he mentally berated himself. He would not give in, would not relinquish himself to merely accepting this, even if that meant he was once again in denial. He was too strong for this.

"There is no going back for you, I'm afraid. However, there is a great risk on the horizon for those in your home. Another like you is to be created."

"Another… you mean a homunculus?"

"Yes."

"And you know this already?"

"The girl's father is preparing a transmutation circle as we speak."

"So, if you're so all-knowing, why didn't you warn Ed about Dante?"

"He was warned. He was told the girl would give him trouble."

"'Give him trouble?!'" Wrath asked, leaping to his feet. "She's possessed by an evil soul!"

"And if he was told that? What would have come from it? You have only a few years' experience. Certainly not enough to understand the ramifications of a child being raised, if she would have been at all, with that over her head. Had you been treated differently by those young alchemists, what would you have become? Do you believe you would have made the sacrifice that allowed you to become human? Do you think you would have become the person that managed to find love twice?"

"Wise asshole, aren't you?" Wrath groaned, exasperatedly. "So why am I here?"

"The remaining portion or essence of yourself could be beneficial to incorporate into the girl's makeup."

"So you want to use me for spare parts?" Wrath asked, incredulous.

"That is a crude, but accurate description, yes. As you were human when you died, it would make it easier for her to achieve her own humanity, just as Ed's arm and leg aided you." The Gate was too damned calm, and Wrath would have given anything to face it in a human form just so he could punch it in the face.

"What about me? Can't I use the spare parts, essence, whatever, and her homunculus body to go back? I have someone I love that's down there, damn it!"

"You are dead. There is no changing that. The only way you could come back is if one of those alchemists on your world commits a crime against alchemy. And you know the risks involved and the sacrifice they'd ultimately be making."

Wrath huffed a bit, trying to show he was still angry, while his thoughts were drawn to an image of Russell missing a limb or dying the process of trying to give Wrath life.

"I am giving you the chance to protect Russell. He is the one you love back on that planet, or at least the one you love that way."

"Protect him?" Wrath scoffed.

"A somewhat human homunculus, rather than a totally inhuman one on that world with him. Consider it."

As Wrath was, he felt the sensation of strong alchemic power opening the Gate from Amestris. The doors opened, and he saw a silver object making its way toward the sea of tiny hands and eyes. Snatching the piece of metal before it could sail through the Gate, Wrath looked at the thing, twisting the cap open and revealing a letter from Dante, pondering for just a moment that the Gate might have had other reasons for giving him the corporeal form.

"That is the other reason you were kept here," the Gate said, as though reading his mind, voice louder as the doors remained open.

"'Dear Thule Society Members,'" Wrath read aloud. "'I write to inform you that those who have not been killed were captured by the fuhrer in this world, a man whose cruelty knows no bounds.'" Wrath lowered the paper for a moment. "That bitch!" He began reading once again. "'The only way I can expect you to be able to stop him is for you to send your reserve troops through the Gate. If you will not do it for the sake of Shamballa or for your troops, do it for the two women now at his will, the woman Riza and your leader Frau Eckhart.'" Wrath crumpled the piece of paper and pitched it into the void of white that surrounded him. "Complete and utter bullshit! That woman Eckhart came through here. You accepted her into what looked like flames."

Wrath tried to focus on the here and now and not on how much his heart he no longer had ached for the man he still loved. "Do you have a pen and paper? I'd like to send a different message through you, if you don't mind."

"Your real clothing is laying just beside you. I believe you will find some in your right hand breast pocket."

Wrath looked down at what appeared to be his clothed body, but looked back over to the uniform laying haphazardly on the white floor, which he hadn't noticed before. "Good. Now, just to send the Thules a message of success and the absolute unnecessary nature of bringing further troops into this battle. As long as I have to sit here, they can just stay where the hell they are. I don't want breathing in exhaust fumes from their planes."

"Actually, you—"

"I know, I can't breathe. Just… shh…. while I write this letter."

0o0o0o0

Dante looked down at Tucker, trying to reign in her need to taunt the man. He had nearly cost her the cover she'd had a year ago with that training dummy he'd used to teach the chimeras to obey her voice and person.

"What do I do?" Tucker asked, looking at her pleadingly. "I need human blood to complete this. I am very hardly human, and even she," He looked over at the doll he'd created of Nina. "was made from animals with only the tiniest piece of Nina in her; it might not be enough."

"And even your Nina wasn't human entirely when she died, thanks to you."

_Couldn't resist the opportunity to taunt him, could you?_

Dante reached into her pocket, ignoring the sudden inner dialogue, retrieving a vial of bright red blood. "I hope it will be enough. I 'borrowed' it on a visit to the hospital with 'Auntie' a few days ago. Keeping it hidden and refrigerated wasn't the easiest of tasks." She handed it to Tucker.

_I hope it was infected and you die from some nasty disease._

Tucker looked at the vial curiously; Dante could only smirk. "You didn't think I was giving you any of mine, did you?"

Really he should have expected this, but it didn't stop Dante from finding it amusing that he hadn't. He began to pour the blood onto the pile of chemicals that also contained a tiny bit of the doll's blood, for the fact that the thing had been created from Nina's remains.

Stealthily, Dante slipped from the room as Tucker's hands connected with the transmutation circle.

_Coward._

Dante was a pragmatist, not a coward.

The light from the transmutation was filling the room along with the sounds of pain from the chimera that had once been Shou Tucker.

0o0o0o0

Wrath stood, watching the formation of the tiny body, his uniform coat and shirt lying in front of her. It was a grotesque sight to behold, and it was all the more disgusting to think that he had been formed the same way. Yet, because he had approved that his body be able to help her formation, she did not appear as something sub-human. She had brown hair, large violet eyes—which he felt certain were somehow his influence—sickly pale skin, and appeared to be no more than six years old, younger than even he had been when he'd been a homunculus.

"Little girl," he said, kneeling in front of her and wrapping his shirt then coat around her body, noticing now it seemed harder to move that a part of himself was in the girl. "Do you understand me?"

The enormous and endearing violet eyes looked terrified but comprehending. He noticed the mark on the left side of her chest. "Sloth," he said, his voice as lost in thought as his mind. "Little girl?" he fastened the much-too-large-shirt and coat as best he could, his fingers even feeling weak now. "There is going to be a young woman there when you leave this place, I'm certain of it. Right now, she isn't to be trusted." He ran his hands over the girl's hair as comfortingly as he could. "Seek out Frank Archer of Kain Fuery." He'd considered Ed or Roy, but they'd had too many encounters with homunculi and might not trust the girl. "Tell them Wrath sent you. Tell them that Dante is in Aideen, but I'm sure Aideen is still in there somewhere, fighting. I saw it in her eyes. As for their help. They're two of the best guys I know. They'll make sure you're safe if you ask them for help."

The tiny head nodded. She understood.

"Have them tell Russell that I love him and miss him, and that I'm gone. I'm dead and he can't bring me back." His words nearly choked him as he struggled not to sob.

Little brows furrowed, seemingly at both Wrath's words and attempts not to cry.

"I know that this doesn't make much sense to you, death and all that. Just trust me on this." He could tell he didn't have long before she was pulled into Amestris to confront Dante? "The redstones," he said aloud. "She will probably feed you redstones. Try to resist if you can, but remember no matter what they're made of, or how you were created, you're not a monster, and you can get a soul if you try hard enough. That young woman will try to tell you otherwise."

The large eyes looked up at him as he could feel her pulling away to the world from where he'd come. "Bye," she said in a tiny voice.

"Remember, go to Frank Archer or Kain Fuery and tell them Wrath told you Aideen is still there but Dante has her. That's the most important thing."

0o0o0o0

Dante enjoyed the silence in her own mind as Tucker's body was ripped apart. It seemed that as a chimera, his organs and limbs were not worth so much as Ed's and Izumi's had been. She was at enough of a distance and had not touched the transmutation circle, that she felt no fear of being pulled in, herself.

To her surprise, a clothed figure emerged as Tucker became very little more than the original Nina's corpse had been.

"Hello, my dear," Dante said, as she stepped out from darkness.

Two very knowing violet eyes looked up at her. Dante couldn't help but think it was strange, since the girl's original and even the doll had aqua eyes. "Eat these," she said, thrusting her hand with the redstones out to the girl. "I'm sure you will find you enjoy them, and there will be far more where they came from."

The girl tried to fight. No new homunculus ever fought receiving the stones, save for Wrath. "Eat them," Dante commanded.

Prying the girl's mouth open with her fingers, Dante was prepared to shove them in when the tiny set of teeth bit down on her, creating enough of a distraction for the girl, her body seeming nothing more than a single fluid movement, leapt up to a crevice in the ceiling and disappeared.

Dante's plans were slipping out of her fingers, just as the homunculus had, and perhaps that meant it was time to alter them.

She looked around her at the release to the chimeras' cages. Yes. It was definitely time to alter them.

0o0o0o0

Wrath could hardly move he felt so weak.

"It is time, Wrath," the Gate said.

"I don't want to go. Russell…"

"Will be with you one day. You merely need to learn patience."

"You're all-knowing. You should know that I don't do patience."

"I know." The Gate's doors opened, revealing blinding light so warm, so comforting, Wrath could hardly help but step toward it, though Russell was on his mind all the while. He'd sacrificed any chance at going back, even through an alchemic crime, but it meant Russell wouldn't be in danger from a homunculus.

Looking into the light, he saw a figure, features so similar to his own, hair braided, but a head shorter than himself. The woman had her arms outstretched.

"Mother?" And before he was actually thinking, he found himself in her arms.

"He will be here for you one day," her voice said as she clung to him. "You'll miss one another, but he'll be here."

Wrath nodded, pulling away from her slightly when he saw a small blond standing behind her, a hand extended in friendship. "It's been a few years, Ulysses. You made a huge sacrifice. You must have loved him." Though Wrath was nearly crying, Edward seemed in awe of his actions for Russell's sake and safety. Even as he took the small hand in his own large one, Wrath sensed only an overwhelming feeling of care and camaraderie from the man who'd once been his lover.

As he turned, hearing the doors to the Gate closing on him, he felt his mother's strong hand rubbing at his back, comforting him as he allowed the blinding whiteness enveloped him.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57 **

**_Mysterious Girls_**

Nicholas sat up in bed with a start. He'd felt the Gate, certain it was opening, but felt something new and different. He heard movement down the hall, the murmured voices of his fathers. Climbing out of bed, still clad in only his gray pajama bottoms, he walked down the hall, checking to see if Aideen had felt it, the way he had and, it seemed, their dad had. He opened the door to the still purple room, finding his sister's bed was empty.

"Dad! Papa!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as he ran to their door, pounding on it. He knew better than to open it, even though he suspected his fathers wouldn't be in the mood to do anything that would scar him for life if he walked in on it. "Dad, Papa, wake up! Aideen's gone again."

The door opened, his papa's sleep dazed face poking through the crack. "What?"

"The escape artist has done it again," Nicholas answered. "She's snuck out."

"She does this often?" Hohenheim asked, having apparently been woken up by Nicholas's yelling.

"Afraid so," Nicholas's older father answered.

"Okay, I'm dressed," his dad's voice said from inside the bedroom, making Nicholas cringe for a second desperate not to go back to that night years ago when he'd walked in on the two of them.

"I'm guessing you felt the Gate, too?" his papa asked, opening the door to show that he was dressed in most of his uniform.

"Dad sensed it too?"

There was a nod. "And now your sister's out there." There was a tone in that low voice that told Nicholas that his papa might be sick if he had to think about it.

"Nicholas, you need to stay here," his dad said as he came bursting through the door, clad in his own uniform. "I wouldn't ask this normally, but please check your sister's room. We need to find out where she might have gone."

He nodded in response and watched as his fathers moved down the hall at a pace that even Nicholas might have struggled to keep up with. He didn't like the idea of having to stay here, wanting to be out looking for his sister alongside his parents, but he didn't see much choice. He tried to remain calm, knowing that his grandfather's eyes were watching him carefully.

He didn't really understand why, but he felt under particular scrutiny when around the elder man. Once again feeling Hohenheim watching him, Nicholas moved to the purple and white bedroom, moving immediately to the floor beside the bed. "If you want to help," he said, "go through her desk."

"Do you do this often?"

"No. But, with the attack, and Dante, I'd have done it if my parents hadn't asked."

Hohenheim only nodded as he sat at the white desk, looking through the drawers full of experimental transmutations.

"She's very talented."

"Don't I know it," Nicholas huffed as he lifted the bedskirt and shifted around a few alchemy textbooks, pulling them out, flipping through their pages, desperate to find something that made his staying at the house feel useful somehow. But, these books hadn't changed since he'd looked through them when his twin had been reading them. He saw the guitar that Fletcher had purchased for his sister in the east. It was dusty from disuse, save for a spot on the neck of the instrument, as though it was regularly grabbed and turned to reveal something behind it. Being thorough, Nicholas pulled the instrument completed from beneath Aideen's bed.

"Does she play?"

"Not like she used to."

There was only a faint nod from the older man as he began feeling beneath the desk. Beside him, Nicholas was laying on his stomach, reaching beneath the bed, pulling out a dark mahogany box. Retrieving it from its place at the corner, he maneuvered the box and himself until he was once again in a seated position, the box on his lap. "Are you looking for something?" Nicholas asked.

"A false bottom," the older man answered.

Nicholas made a noise of acknowledgement before opening the box, finding several pictures of the family, his mother, one of Phillip, a few of Aideen and Fletcher together, a few of Fletcher alone. There were some of the various friends and family that they were closest to, but beneath them was a red velvet bag, one he'd seen wrapped around bottles of expensive bottles of liquor. He set the photos aside and removed the bag, somewhere in the back of his mind, getting a sense of what the thing already held, and feeling as though the heavy item was resting inside his stomach.

He saw Hohenheim turn, observing him closely. He reached into the bag, feeling the cool metal and wood of the handle. That nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach grew as the revolver appeared from the bag in his hand. As carefully as one who'd been raised to understand his mother's interests as well as his fathers', Nicholas analyzed the weapon.

"Your mother was a marksman, was she not? Is that one of hers?"

"It's only a thirteen-year-old model." He popped out the chamber of the revolver, seeing the thing held six bullets, fully loaded. Analyzing the thing, he could see it hadn't been fired, not recently, at least.

"You're that familiar with them?"

"Dad and Papa thought it was best. Mother wasn't interested in antiques or music or theater. She liked guns, so we learned about them." He looked closer at the barrel of the thing, noticing a hint of red at the tip. It didn't look like blood, because blood would have been dark had it been dried and would have appeared much more wet than this red substance if it had been. Nicholas put his finger to the red, smearing just a bit on his fingers and rubbing them together against his thumb. "It's oily, tacky like grease paint or lipstick…"

At those words from his own mouth, Nicholas leapt from the floor and ran to the door. He thought of picking up a phone, but knew the phone lines were still out from the attack. Even if he grabbed hold of one of the guards stationed outside, he didn't know if it would be enough. His sister could be out there doing something stupid, maybe trying to face Dante herself.

Because there was one fact that was blatantly obvious: Aideen didn't care for her own life anymore and had tried to take it at least once with that revolver upstairs.

0o0o0o0

Frank stood inside of David Patterson's bedroom, the place where the man had hanged himself from the rafter. There was something far too convenient about the fact that the man was now dead, just as were the Thules. If Frank were being perfectly honest with himself, he'd have said that someone had intended it to go that way, and really, he was surprised that Riza and Hohenheim had made it out alive.

Looking over what he—alone, apparently—felt was a crime scene, Frank did his best to find the evidence that his men obviously didn't want to see. He felt absolutely certain that someone had killed this man, this waste of a uniform, but he knew no one else outside of those who knew Dante and her involvement in the Thules' attack would ever have suspected the same.

As far as Frank could tell, there were seven other men who had taken over control in their unit or troop, some merely operating equipment they weren't truly trained for or by commanding their fellow troops. All could have been perceived as heroes, save for the fact that the coincidence pointed to something more similar. These men, until the recent attack, showed no sign of moving through the ranks, let alone leadership material.

There was some murmuring down the hall outside of Patterson's small apartment, then the noise of men moving and shifting in the narrow passage to the open door before a young sergeant appeared, looking rather exhausted by whatever journey he'd just made.

"Colonel Archer, sir!" he said.

"What is it, Sergeant?" he asked the young man.

"A young girl is asking for you and Brigadier General Fuery," the man huffed. "She was wearing Major Curtis's uniform coat."

At first, all Frank could do was nod, forgetting the importance of the name Curtis. As his brain caught up with the sergeant's words, Frank felt his chest tighten and his breathing quicken. "Wrath?" he asked. The man nodded.

"Continue this investigation," Frank ordered to the troops in the room. "And if I find any of you have been lax, I will personally have you knocked down to private so fast you'll get whiplash. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Sir," his team answered in unison.

"Take me to the girl, sergeant," he commanded.

0o0o0o0

Roy, along with several of the guards that normally covered him and his home, began scouring the western part of the city. He knew Ed was going East, and much as the fuhrer loathed the idea, Fletcher had gone to look south, upon Roy's own orders. At the moment, a greater concentration of troops was at the point of the dirigible at the northern part of the city, and they had been notified of Aideen's disappearance.

Roy's instincts were telling him to find his daughter, hold her, kiss her, then smack her in Ed-like form. He was worried sick and he was furious that once again, she'd done something so reckless and dangerous. However, he also found himself a bit nauseous at the lingering anger at the back of his mind, one that had nothing to do with her making him fear for her safety. No, this irate feeling made him feel more ashamed than he had in a long while. He was angry that she'd run off again, almost demonstrating for all of his troops a complete lack of leadership on his part. It wasn't often that the part of himself that had fought to rise through the ranks showed itself, but every time it did, particularly now, it made him hate himself all the more.

Pulling himself from his own thoughts with a self-chastising attitude, he focused again on the search. He had to find her. He could feel ashamed himself after he had Aideen in his arms again.

Still, he looked around for any sight of her. She'd taken the red coat, and really, that should have made things easier, but no one, not even those in the underground city have yet to see her.

"Papa…" a crackled voice, that of his son, came across the radio at his side. "Papa, Aideen…"

Roy frantically grabbed for the radio at his side, unlatching the strap and holding it to his mouth. "Nicholas? Have you found her? Did she come home?" Despite himself, Roy couldn't manage to contain the hope in his voice.

"No… found… gun… using it… ill herself."

"What, Nicholas?" Roy repeated, unable to hear his son clearly with the disturbance from the crashed planes and downed towers.

"Found… kill herself."

And with that, the realization what his son was trying to tell him, struck so fast and so painfully that the radio slipped from Roy's hands without a second thought, crashing to the ground.

0o0o0o0

Kain nodded to Riza as he left the car, telling her that she could trust the men he'd left to guard her. Apparently, the woman wasn't much different from the one he'd know, in that she didn't want to be far from the action. She felt, for whatever reason, that the closer she was, the better her chances that she would get to go back to her family. Her reason was that of a woman who wasn't accustomed to staying behind, and Kain knew that, according to Frank, she'd been a spy, herself, during the "Great War" on earth, and that was how she'd met the Roy of that world.

Kain could see Frank a bit closer to the tent than he was, and he ran as quickly as he could to catch up. Frank must have heard him, though his pace didn't slow, a hand merely reached out, waiting for Kain to be close enough to grasp it.

When he did, Kain allowed his husband to lead him into the tent where a fierce-looking little girl stood on top of a medical cot, somehow keeping her precarious balance, watching them closely.

"Frank Archer and Kain Fuery?" she asked.

They both nodded. Kain released his husband's hand and went to the girl, watching as she flinched when he tried to touch her arm to get a closer look at the coat.

"Little one? Do you have a name?" Frank asked from behind Kain.

"Nina." She shook her head. "Sloth. Don't know."

Kain turned his head to the side just enough to look at Frank out of the corner of his eye, seeing a faint nod of acknowledgement that what this girl just said could signal she was a homunculus.

"Why are you looking for us?"

"The man who gave me these," She looked down at the clothes. "told me to."

"And where is Wrath?" Kain asked, trying to remain calm.

"He said to tell Russell he was gone. He was at the Gate." Her large violet eyes looked him over carefully, then glanced up at Frank, who had closed the distance and grabbed hold of the younger man's shoulder in reassurance. She looked at the hand on Kain's shoulder, brown eyebrows furrowing. Kain couldn't help but notice those eyes, the same color as Wrath's. Perhaps a consequence of being a homunculus?

Kain shook his head minutely, trying not to think of the girl as a homunculus before he knew for sure.

"Why did he send you to us?"

"To tell you that Dante has Aideen," she said, slowly, as though trying to make sure she got those names right. Kain looked back at Frank, who had already left the tent to call up all available troops. Honestly, Kain would have preferred their positions reversed, as he needed to remain calm around the girl, and he was nowhere near the skilled at keeping his worry from showing on his face.

"He told you that?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, her finger pointing out and poking the rim of the glasses perched on Kain's nose.

"And where did you come from?"

"The Gate."

"What was the Gate like?"

"Big, lots of white everywhere. And that big guy."

"And after the Gate?"

"There was a lady there, tried to put some… redstones, the big guy called them, in my mouth. But I got away."

"Nina," Kain said, preferring not to call the girl Sloth, "do you remember where the woman was?"

"It had light, but not a lot, I had to come up to the street where the other men in blue found me."

"Were you in a city underground, with lots of buildings like this?"

She seemed to think for a moment. If she was a homunculus, then there was a strong possibility she didn't have a concept of a city. "No. Lots of stone and tunnels."

"Where did you come out?"

"Near a big wall. There were lots of guys in these," she said, pulling at the uniform coat. "I think there was a building there, kind of big, but not huge."

"The guards, did they have a gold patch on their arm?" Kain asked, hoping he was wrong.

"Yes," she answered.

He smiled at her, trying to ignore the gnawing sensation in his gut. "I'll be back in just a minute." She nodded, sitting down on the cot. Kain stepped outside the canvas tent and grabbed Frank's arm as he was conveying the message across the radio of Aideen's capture. "Dante is underneath the fuhrer's home. She's made tunnels there."

The icy blue eyes looked at him somberly, and the message was changed. They now knew where there enemy was after all this time. The problem was _who_ their enemy might appear to be and the danger that Aideen might be in while within their clutches.

0o0o0o0

Dante didn't have much choice now. She had planned for her attack to come at once, but it appeared it was going to have to come in waves, as the Thules were not yet making their attempt to break through. It pissed her off to no end that the homunculus had run off. Really, it appeared this one had been another Sloth, and if that was true, then it was a great loss. Though she hadn't created the original Sloth, that thing had been very loyal to her.

There were far too many things that didn't make sense with the new homunculus's reaction, but much as the ancient alchemist wanted to analyze it, there just wasn't time. She reached through the bars of the first chimera cage, rubbing the thing's head, grateful for at more than just Tucker's skill at making these things, but the fact that he had trained them to recognize her using that lifelike doll and a phonograph of her voice.

_Oh yes, that was just lovely._

"My, my, being talkative." Dante moved to the wall out of the road of the chimeras. "Feeling rebellious, Aideen?"

_Fuck you._

"Do you kiss your fathers with that mouth?" Dante looked at the animals who knew, for once, that they were going to be released, free to roam and kill. "I wonder if any of my babies will manage to find them before they find us. I wouldn't dare to hope that for your daddy. He's too stubborn." Dante clapped her hands and placed the right one on the wall, setting into motion the dissolution of the bars.

_You can't!_

"Go from here!" Dante ordered the chimeras. "Run and feed to your dark little hearts' content."

_No!_

"Are you planning on stopping me? Because really, you've been successful thus far. All those entertaining attempts with the gun."

_Piss off_

Dante smiled, watching as chimera after chimera ran, flew, leapt through the tunnels, easily making their way to the surface. "You seem to have inherited the brat's vocabulary. Sorry if I'm not impressed."

_My parents will stop you, and if they don't Nicholas will. He's always been able to tell the difference between us._

"Yes, and look at all the good it did him," Dante said as she clapped once again, sending up a signal to the sky above to notify the troops under her thumb that the time had come to attack. "Your parents put him in therapy and decided that they preferred my behavior to yours. Rather amusing, really, how much they prefer me to their own daughter. I'm sure even Phillip would argue the same thing since I put out."

_Fuck you._ This time the voice was weaker in Dante's head.

"No, I believe he fucked you," Dante said with a mental smirk. "Tell me, when we traded off, was he as awkward and harsh as he'd been when I'd gotten him started? Because really, it seemed like it would get painful when he got into it. Am I right? I'm sure Fletcher would have known what he was doing, but he rejected you. Just like everyone does."

_Shut the hell up!_ Again, the voice was barely more than a whisper. Dante was once again regaining her control over this body. And then, the dwindling presence had faded into near nothingness.

0o0o0o0

Russell was once again underground, focusing at the moment on his shame for having broken down in front of his little brother. He was a grown man. He didn't need to be sobbing into Fletcher's arms like some child. Russell rubbed over his face, his fingers and thumb lingering over the goatee that he'd grown over the last few months. Shame was easy, anger worked fine too. Remorse would leave him absolutely useless, and he just couldn't have that, not as long as there was even the slightest chance that Wrath might be out there somewhere, alive.

As he searched through rubble, trying to locate the blocks that had been erected against the Gate, Russell found himself standing stock still as he heard the sound of growling echo through the chamber of the underground city. A cold chill ran down his spine, sensing that the situation from three years ago was being repeated. The growls grew louder and he did his best to erect a fortress of some sort and pull out his gun.

As a major, he began barking orders to the other troops in a harsh whisper. For just a moment, the fact that he felt they needed protected, needed leadership, allowed him to think more clearly than he had since the first breach of the Gate. Though he wasn't admittedly the most militaristic of the state alchemists, he felt for now that he needed to do this, to command as Wrath would have, protect as his lover had, and hope that at the very least somewhere out there, someone was doing the same for the younger man.

0o0o0o0

Really, there would have been few who could have kept up with the Fullmetal Alchemist on a good day, but running after Edward Elric, panicked and murderous father, was impossible, and Ed knew it. He'd lost his guards ages back, and he didn't give a damn. He'd heard the message from Frank. They believed Dante had Aideen beneath the ground. Somewhere beneath his own damned house, his daughter was in danger.

It was possible that Dante had her already, possible that the bitch knew about the necklaces and had…

As he ran, Ed shook his head. There were dozens of things to think about and that was the last one he wanted on his mind. He preferred to think of the method by which he wanted to end Dante's life.

Seeing red didn't begin to describe it as he charged through the streets, prepared to destroy the bitch he should have finished off properly the first time around.

As he neared his house, he could hear the sounds of gunfire and pained roaring. There were shouts from humans, cries from something less than human. And so, Ed ran faster.

He watched as a chimera appeared from what appeared to be nothing more than a sewer, surfacing and laying eyes upon the small alchemist.

"You really don't want to mess with me, you monster," Ed muttered as he transformed his arm and attacked the thing, not even giving the meshed animal a chance to make the first move. Quickly and smoothly, he sliced through the mammal's flesh, ignoring the blood that covered his arm from this move.

It fell limply to the ground, allowing Ed enough room to climb down into the sewer where it had come from.

He was prepared to attack another one, but found that many others were already attacking elsewhere. Whatever ones had intended to climb through at the sewage ditch had already made their escape it seemed. Chest heaving, Ed made his way through unknown tunnels, ones that looked as though they'd been created recently, all perfectly formed, all looking to be done with alchemy. It was dark, but with a faint glow from a nearby chamber keeping just the faintest glow within the tunnels.

Carefully and as quietly as he possibly could, Ed walked to the tunnel, wanting to rush in and attack, but not daring to for the sake of his little girl. When he saw the red coat, he nearly gasped, nearly rushed to her side. Instead, he watched as she turned, looking at him, and tears came to her eyes almost immediately. "Daddy! You're here. Oh, damn, I thought…" She ran to him, wet trails now streaking her cheeks, and wrapped her arms tightly against him.


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58 **

**_Suffering_**

The brat was actually returning her embrace! It took everything in Dante's power not to laugh at that moment. Some military man he was. He was finding "Aideen" in Dante's lair and when she runs to him, he hugs her. He just simply couldn't believe his little girl could be possessed. Really, it was amusing.

And, after all, wasn't that exactly what Dante had counted on after all these years?

It seemed that no matter how strange the behavior was for the girl, the two fathers would always dismiss it.

"I'm just glad you're safe," the brat said as he clung tightly to Dante's shoulders. "I was so worried." He pulled back and looked up into Dante's eyes. She looked down at him after noticing they were very close to the wall. "Aideen, I need you to tell me if you've seen Dante. Did she do anything to you?"

Carefully, in her tearful state, Dante maneuvered Ed closer to the wall, clapping her hands behind his back. "Oh, Ed," she said, her voice lacking all signs of distress she'd put into it when she'd first seen him. "I'm right here." She pressed her hands to the wall, and before the brat could react, he was restrained by the stone wall, gaping at her in shock and horror.

It was enough to make her smile.

0o0o0o0

Russell pulled out his gun and began ordering troops. He wasn't as skilled a marksman as General Havoc or some of the other men in the military, but the simple fact was that a bag of seeds would only go so far in the mostly dark city. He also knew that if what was coming toward him was what he thought, then he was certain the creatures growling as they approached ever so slowly had a definite advantage over him.

Despite the risk of halting his retreat, Russell stopped and drew a transmutation circle on the ground, trying to create a barrier that might, with any hope stop, or at least delay the approaching monsters.

He wished he'd had some skill at the incorporation alchemy Wrath had practiced and Nicholas had so easily learned. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so defenseless. As it was, Russell felt as though he might as well have been facing down a lion with nothing more than a twig or a slingshot. Lingering in the back of his mind as he ran off, prepared to create another barrier after a few more feet of cobblestone street, not to mention a few straggling soldiers from one of the side streets.

Watching them run behind hew newly created barrier to the barricades where the chimera—because Russell had very little doubt that was exactly what the things were—would be easier to fight off and would almost certainly come, as these things seemed to be tracking for human blood, Russell couldn't help but think of Wrath, despite himself. If he held onto the faith that Wrath had survived the initial attack of the Thules, that meant there was a strong possibility he was down in the city. When the first of the screams started, the sign that the chimeras were finally killing the soldiers who hadn't made it to a fortified area in time, Russell listened for the familiar deep voice.

A loud shriek above him startled the alchemist, making him turn his gun upwards to the stone ceiling. He could see the form of something, just a moving shadow in the darkness above him. The thing shrieked again as he began firing his weapon at it. As the splatter of something warm hit his face, Russell didn't have to guess if he'd hit the thing. Still, he guessed he'd not dealt a fatal blow, as the creature still moved in the air above him. He needed to strike a vital organ, or at the very least one of the monster's wings. He continued to fire as the thing drew closer.

A sharp talon tore into his arm, but Russell continued to fire, trying to ignore the ripping sound and excruciating pain as he brought the thing to the ground. With his good arm, Russell slid the gun back in the holster, moving to the bag of seeds and activating them. They wouldn't last long here, but if he could make them ram through the chimera before the lack of sun and forced rapid growth expended them too quickly, he could kill the thing.

As the seeds hit the ground and began to grow into vine spikes that pierced the flesh of the thing, they soon died and were nothing more than wooden stakes going through the creature's lifeless body.

Unfortunately, he could hear more of the things coming closer, drawn by the smell of fresh blood, both the chimera's and Russell's.

0o0o0o0

Frank ran back into the tent where the girl sat, still dressed in Wrath's uniform coat and shirt. There were reports of chimeras coming near this part of the city, and he wasn't sure if the young thing would know how to defend herself.

"Come with me," he said, opening his arms and offering to carry her.

She held her arms outstretched, and leapt into his, something he knew she wouldn't have been able to achieve if she had been fully human.

"Those monsters are here, aren't they?" she asked. "The ones from below here?"

"Yes," he answered, wrapping her legs around him. "We're going to try to find you someplace safe."

"No. I can fight. I fought her."

"Who?"

"The woman with the redstones. I bit her."

"Well, biting is entirely different than fighting chimeras." He stepped out of the tent, cradling the girl to him. "Kain, we need to get Nina out of here, send her with Riza."

"I told you I want to fight. I can fight." The girl in his arms was adamant.

"Frank," Kain said as he emerged from the tent, "we're going to have to get the girl out of here now. There's something more going on here. One of the radio operators' messages was ended abruptly."

Frank could guess there was more to this, maybe something the younger man didn't want to say in front of the girl. Rather than say anything that might disturb the child in his arms, Frank only nodded in response.

"Really, I never thought I'd see the day that Frank Archer cradled a little girl," a snide voice said from nearby. Frank and Kain turned to see a major, one who would likely stall exactly in the rank, looking at the suspected homunculus intently as he held a gun, aiming it right at Frank. "I need to ask you to hand over the girl."

"Upon what authority?" Kain asked.

"One higher than you. That's all you need to know."

"I'm afraid I'm going to need a bit more than that," Frank answered, turning the girl away from the man.

"Let me go," the girl asked, calmly. "I'll fight."

"I'm not going to make a little girl fight, Nina."

"Colonel Archer, I'm asking you to hand over that child in your arms."

"If you think I'm going to listen to you, you really are kidding yourself."

There was noise coming from the car where Riza had been waiting, gunfire, yelling, just enough to make the major panic and fire the gun into Frank's right shoulder.

Though he hadn't intended on it, his grip on the girl loosened and she slid from his arms, launching herself at the major. Kain had suspected she wasn't entirely human, but to watch her fight now, it seemed very obvious that was the case. She moved fluidly, to put it mildly, as she leapt at the other man, her arms wrapping around his neck more times that could be humanly possible. In pain, Frank fell to his knees, watching as the girl forced the man to collapse, unconscious.

"Release him," Kain ordered her.

"But he hurt your friend."

"Yes, but we can't get any answers from him if he's dead."

"Please, let him go. If you keep squeezing, he'll be dead."

The girl's arms unraveled from the man, and she immediately went to Frank's side to look at the bullet wound. "Why did he want me?"

"Because you're very special." Frank looked into the very familiar violet eyes, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear before glancing up at his husband. "Go check on Riza. I'm okay."

"With just the girl—Nina?" Kain asked, though whether he felt he was leaving a poor defender with Frank or he was concerned that the little girl might harm him, the older man didn't know.

"I'll guard him." The violet eyes looked as serious as the tone in her voice.

With that, Kain nodded and left.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher began running back to the center of town, near the fuhrer's home. He could see the beginnings of the brick wall that protected the Mustang family from intruders, but despite feeling he was so close to where Aideen was, the noise he heard froze him in his tracks. He'd heard that noise once before, and he'd hoped he'd never hear it again. Working in the greenhouse and arboretum next to the Central Zoo, he was familiar with the noises that normal animals made. Nothing he was hearing at the moment fell into that category.

The pained cry of something unnatural, something that knew it wasn't meant to be pierced the air and sent an involuntary shiver down Fletcher's spine. Moments like that, when he was certain his nerves would give out on him, Fletcher felt ashamed and questioned why he'd gone from being freelance, as Al still was, to being a full-fledged State Alchemist. He'd have gotten the state funding, and his brother had decreased his work with plants for research and gathering the history of alchemy in Amestris—which would be why he'd earned the title the Tome Alchemist, a fact that Russell still despised, being essentially "the book alchemist"—making him the only one what the skill and knowledge to do the work with plants as he'd been doing.

But, despite his doubts, Fletcher didn't care, military or not. He was going to be here and he was going to find Aideen, if for no other reason than to know that she was still very much alive and safe.

Reaching into the sling-style bag at his hip, Fletcher grabbed a handful of seeds, wishing he had some method of fighting that was a little more intimidating than tossing seeds at his enemy. He saw a flash of brown run past him, down to the next road. Following the thing, Fletcher saw the fuhrer and two of his guards putting up a fight against the thing.

Throwing the only weapon he could use properly, Fletcher captured the hairy thing in the vines that slowly squeezed the life out of the chimera. Roy nodded his thanks as Fletcher ran to his side.

"If I can manage to hold them off, we need to get you to Aideen," Fletcher yelled to the fuhrer. Again, there was a quick nod.

0o0o0o0

Ed watched as the face of his own daughter was twisted into a very self-satisfied sneer. "Really, you should be ashamed of yourself, not recognizing my presence here."

"How long have you been in there?" He managed, letting out his anger, rather than the grief that was rising with the knowledge that Dante's presence had to surely mean his daughter's was gone. "How long?!"

Dante said nothing, but looked at his automail hand. "You know, it is really amazing to think that a few years ago, were I to do something to your automail, you would never have felt it. How beneficial for me now." She smiled as Ed struggled against his restraints.

"Talk, damn it! How long have you been there?"

"Oh," she said, tracing her fingers over Ed's still unfeeling automail arm, "do you really think that I am going to make the stupid mistake of telling you my ever plan from the beginning? I mean, I'm willing, but that isn't going to stall for you." She reached near the juncture to his shoulder and smiled wider. "Ah, here it is." She sounded much too delighted. She pressed her finger to the transmutation circle, activating the connection to every one of Ed's nerves. "And to answer your first question and, I'm sure, your second as well, I know about that circle because I've been here since the very beginning. There has never been a day of her life when I've not been able to observe your every movement."

"No," Ed yelled out. "My daughter. No."

"Already incoherent, Ed? But I haven't even begun to torture you. You're spoiling my fun." She sighed, clapping her hands before wrapping a hand around his index finger, destroying it on contact. It felt as though it was being ripped off by the Gate all over again. Not crying out wasn't an option, but as she clapped her hands to do it again to the next available finger, keeping from whimpering was.

"My, I wonder how much you could withstand before you beg me not to do it again. Would you be interested in wagering a guess? Hmm?"

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, my how familiar and unoriginal." She disintegrated yet another finger, and he cried out again. "Now, I wonder, do two fingers hurt worse than one or does it all equal one excruciating pain in the end? Because really, I would love nothing more than to see you suffering." She clapped her hands again, and prepared for the worst, Ed closed his eyes. Instead of disintegrating more of his automail, she pressed them to the wall again, this time a collar coming out to restrain his neck to the wall and a second piece reaching out to hold his head to his right side to watch her do her work. Once there was a clap and the feeling of cool lips pressed to his forehead. "Does it hurt more to feel this done to you or to witness your own daughter doing it?"

"You're not my daughter!"

Dante chuckled again. "But you've all but raised me, Daddy." She enclosed his ring and pinkie finger with her hand. Again, there was blinding pain, and a scream ripped from Ed's lips. "Oh, my, that sounds like it hurt worst than the last time. I wonder what the agony would be for the remaining piece of your hand and thumb. Let's find out, shall we?"

"What does torturing me get you?" Ed asked, his voice hardly more than a croak from the last scream.

"Well now, that nearly sounds like a beg for me to stop." She chuckled. "Actually, Ed, it gets me a lot of fun. You have no idea how much I love the idea of hurting you. I have chimeras running through the city, I have troops who answer to me over your husband, and I have Thules preparing on the other side of the Gate. I can take my time with you because my orders have already been given and are being carried out as we speak." She wrapped her hand around his, and in that flash, it was gone, drawing not only the stinging tears or the shout of agony, but the whimper as Ed watched her hand. "I know I shouldn't get this much enjoyment out of this, and the fact that I am seems to only prove that I've lost my mind, but to tell the truth, I don't think I care so much. You and your pathetically soft-hearted brother are the reason that Hohenheim stayed away, and you nearly got me killed. Though, I suppose, I should thank you for providing me with such an athletic, beautiful and powerful host."

"Now, for the arm. Perhaps, we'll start at the wrist." Her hands clapped together, and she hovered over Ed's remaining piece of arm for several seconds, her face seemingly blank.

Then a cry, not Ed's own, rang out through the darkness. "No!"

Had his head not been restrained, Ed would have looked for the source of the cry. He looked down at his arm, and saw that Dante had stopped her assault at least momentarily. "Oh, Dad. I couldn't… She was too strong… I'm so sorry."

0o0o0o0

Kain hated leaving Frank and Nina together, alone, but he really felt as though he had no choice. Gun drawn, he approached the car where he'd left the Earth Riza, expecting to find her injured, possibly dead, at the very least captured. Some of the troops had knowledge that Nina was unique, obviously. They would have to see this once-dead woman and suspect the same. They would see this dead woman, assuming they could get some kind of reward for having found her from their leader. A leader, who was most likely Dante.

But to Kain's surprise, he found a man with his right shin shot out from underneath him and the figure of a woman in brown pants and a white shirt standing over him, foot to his throat and gun to his head.

"Riza?" Kain yelled. "He attacked you?"

"Yes," she answered, never taking her eyes off the man who had tried to harm her. "But he's going to cooperate. Aren't you?" she asked the man on his back.

"Y-yes."

"Very good," Riza said to the trapped man in a tone that sounded so like her counterpart Kain could little help the strange feeling it evoked. "You see, I debated staying out of this battle, but since their side's the only one that's going to guarantee I get to see my boys and husband again, looks like I'm fighting against you.'

0o0o0o0

"Slow down, will you?" Hohenheim yelled out to his grandson.

"I can't afford to," the teen yelled over his shoulder as they charged out of the building. "Run faster."

Hohenheim was about to remind Nicholas that he wasn't a sixteen-year-old when the boy opened the front door of the house, and the sign of yet another battle obvious outside. "The chimeras!" Nicholas said. "They're back."

Hohenheim was aware that the teen had lost his hand three years before when chimeras had first attacked the city. He'd thought the teen would look frightened at the sight of these creatures again. Instead, that seemed to be the opposite case. Nicholas appeared to be steeling himself for battle once again, a fact that was all but proven by the clap of his hands that transformed his arm into a spike.

"You can't fight like that!" Hohenheim yelled, looking at the teen, still clad in nothing more than a pair of pajama pants.

"I'm not wasting time like that," Nicholas said. "A bullet or a set of claws will cut through a shirt as easily as it would a bare chest." He ran down the steps and charged toward a bear-like thing that was climbing over the brick wall. "Are you coming?"

"Somehow, I think you have a slight advantage," Hohenheim yelled as he clapped his hands and rammed a spear of stone through a flying chimera that was approaching Nicholas.

"Thanks, old man," Nicholas yelled back as he sliced through the arm of the bear chimera.

"It isn't wise to insult the man who is covering your back," Hohenheim replied as he watched the young man fighting with more skill than seemed right in someone of his age.

0o0o0o0

Phillip Armstrong had been part of the group allowed to remain in Central. Many of the cadets were first generation, and despite his inexperience, Phillip was given the interesting position of being in charge of a unit of his own. There was a risk, of course, but he was not frightened. He'd prepared for this, not only in the short time he'd been at the academy, but from watching his father and the fuhrer.

However, while their commands had come from General Breda, a first lieutenant came running up, trying to get Phillip to relinquish command.

"I come on direct orders from the general."

"What general?"

"General Havoc."

"Oh, because I don't recognize you from his command. If I remember right, you're a lieutenant that falls under my father's chain of command, though somewhat indirectly."

"Your father?"

"Yes," Phillip said, hand itching over the gun he had been given to use. "Do you know him?" Phillip watched the man's hand hovering over his own weapon, but had not drawn it yet. "General Armstrong? I also happen to know, that as General Havoc is a friend of our family, he never sends a troop who isn't a member of his own chain of command. So, why are you here, Lieutenant?"

"You aren't to question me, cadet."

"Perhaps not, but with dissention in the ranks occurring at the moment, it would be prudent." There were a lot of mistakes he'd made, many moments of insecurity, but there was no room for error here. This was a delicate situation, and it was all Phillip could do to signal his troops to make contact with superior officers to help.

0o0o0o0

The restraints were now gone, but Ed couldn't remember how it happened. Ignoring his confusion at that moment, he launched himself forward, clapping his hands and painfully transforming what remained of his arm into a spear that he held at the throat of his attacker. He saw something in those gold and bronze eyes, something that hadn't been there moments before. With his hesitation, the steel pierced the skin

"Please. Do it." He looked into the eyes again, seeing the pleading look in those eyes. "Please."

"Aideen?"

"Please. I've tried so hard to make you hate me, can't you just remember how terrible I was? Dad, she won't let me do it myself. Kill me."

"Aideen?"

"Dad, kill me. Finish it before she hurts you more, before she hurts anyone else."

"We can save you, Aideen, we can."

"Dad," she said, grabbing hold of the metal weapon at his neck and holding it firmly. "Maybe if we had all the research that I tried to collect, but there isn't time, and she's getting stronger. I wouldn't even be able to do this if Fletcher hadn't taught me how to meditate."

_Yes, that was a rather obnoxious lesson for me._

"Dad, she's getting stronger. She'll be back. Please. Kill. Me."

Ed closed his eyes, unsure if he could manage the resolve to do as she asked. He felt her other hand move to the metal, clasping at her own, but that was followed by blinding pain as his entire arm was ripped off.

"Too late, Brat."


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59 **

_Death_

Hohenheim clapped his hands to the ground yet again, watching in gruesome interest as one more chimera fell to the ground dead. He'd never really been a fighter, but to know that Dante was once again threatening his family, something in him snapped.

"I see where they've come from. I'm going to follow them down!" Nicholas yelled. "Hold them off!"

"Nicholas, you can't go down there alone."

"Then you shouldn't have told me you're sure Aideen is Dante when we can't get through to anyone on the radio!"

"It will be dangerous. You can't face Dante by yourself, especially if she looks like your own sister!"

"She's tried to kill herself. It won't be hard to fight her if I know my sister's in there. Because that's the only way I know she's going to be safe."

"You can't face her alone. You won't know what you're up against!"

"See those fireballs, they're my papa. I won't be alone for long, but if Dad's already down there, and Aideen's still in there somewhere, I'm not going to risk it by waiting." Nicholas was running off toward bushes at the edge of the lawn. "Just cover me!"

"Fine, but if you die, I'll come after you myself when your dad kills me!"

"I didn't know you could make a joke!" Nicholas yelled back before disappearing.

"I wasn't joking," Hohenheim mumbled to himself as he quickly made plans for the chimera he could hear making its way around the corner.

0o0o0o0

"Sir, I am not about to turn over these cadets to you. Their actions fall under the leadership of General Breda, not Havoc, not even my father. So most certainly neither they nor I will be answering to you." Phillip looked the older man in the eyes, trying to make himself look intimidating.

"And, sir, your hand may hover over your weapon for hours. You may even use that gun at your hip to get rid of me, but I assure you that these cadets are loyal to the fuhrer and will take you out. I do question, however, where your loyalty lies. Is it with the same person that David Patterson sided with?"

"You are a fool to follow the fuhrer. He will go out the same way the one before him did."

"I wouldn't count on that. He's a strong man. A good man." Phillip eyed the man opposite him. He'd meant the words he'd said about the fuhrer, and he could tell the man opposite him did not feel the same. "Tell me, do you take your orders from Dante?"

The man didn't answer, but the silence and the momentary reaction on the soldier's face were enough. This man served Dante, the person who'd captured Aideen, the person who was possibly hurting the woman Phillip still loved, regardless of the last few months' events.

"Traitor," Phillip hissed, brown eyes narrowing.

In a quick motion, the lieutenant pulled his gun, Phillip doing the same only half a second later. He heard the two gunshots echo through the border lands, but for the teen, he saw only darkness.

0o0o0o0

Frank felt the girl's cool hands on his forehead. "That really hurts, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Doesn't tickle," he answered, teeth nearly clenched.

"I don't know pain," she said.

"Lucky you." Knowing what this child was, Frank wanted to remain cold to her, but as she looked down at him, one hand gently rubbing at his head, another holding a piece of fabric over his still-bleeding shoulder, it was incredibly difficult.

"Why did you ask for us?" Frank asked.

"The big man told me to."

"Big man?"

"With dark hair in funny strands," she said, eyes looking so similar to Wrath's as she tried to remember. "He told me to see you. The last thing he said was Dante had Aideen. Before that he told me to give Russell, whoever that is, a message, before that, it was just about the same message to you two, that Dante is Aideen, but Aideen's in there. He also told me about redstones and that I can be more human, I guess that's what you are."

"Dante is Aideen?" Frank asked, having finally processed that statement.

"Yes, Dante is Aideen, Dante has Aideen and Aideen's still in there. I'd like to meet Aideen. He said a lot about her."

"Nina," Frank said, "can you pull the radio from the holster at my side and press the button on the side, quickly."

The girl nodded and obeyed, removing the thing and pressing the button. "Hold it to my mouth," he said, as his own hand was now holding the rag to the wound. "To all who hear this, approach Aideen Mustang with extreme caution." Frank was going to have to lie, but do it effectively enough that no one was put in danger. "There is an imposter posing as the fuhrer's daughter. I repeat. Aideen Mustang may be an imposter, approach with caution."

0o0o0o0

"Now that we've got that troublesome arm out of the way, let's see what we can do about your leg."

Dante watched as Ed tried to scramble away, still half-blind in the pain from his arm, and not moving nearly fast enough to get away from the younger body. It was amusing that in his agony, Ed seemed to have forgotten that he was an alchemist and could still draw a transmutation circle that could block her approach. Remembering the transmutation to activate the automail, Dante grabbed hold of the smaller man's ankle with a quick lunge. The gold eyes widened in fear, real, true fear just before Dante clapped her hands and deteriorated the now-feeling leg in one swipe.

The small man threw his head back and arched his body as he screamed. Really, had she not been the creator of the circumstances of his pain, she'd have thought him in ecstasy to look at him. Despite himself and his foolish pride, Ed was crying now in his agony. Dante waited to hear any number of things from his lips, something about the pain or his limbs, but it wasn't. None of his concern after all she'd put him through was for himself.

"Aideen," he said, quietly, as though trying to call the girl out.

"I'm afraid I have control again, and I don't plan on letting her out."

"Stronger…" Ed gasped for breath. "than you."

"Oh, that might have been true, but you'd be surprised what a little rape does to break the spirit."

"You fucking…monster!"

"No worse than you! She tried to warn you, leaving all that information out about me, practically pointing to herself as the host, and what did you do? You threw it away, you removed the markers and destroyed more hope than I ever had."

Ed was nearly reduced to tremors as his nerves were trying to recover from the pain. Even funnier was the fact that he was trying to fight his body's natural reaction to the trauma Dante had induced. That only served to make him shake harder against the restraints, tears staining his dust-covered face. It was so deliciously pitiful.

Dante laughed as she clapped her hands and once again bound Ed, this time to the floor. "Oh, I've been called much, much worse. Now," she said, "we're out of parts that don't bleed." She clapped her hands and let her hand hover, prepared to retrieve the spear she'd just created.

"Keep your hands off of him!" Dante glanced to the shadows at one of the tunnel's openings. "You want to fight, fight me."

0o0o0o0

Fletcher was growing more and more frustrated. It seemed that for every two feet they gained toward the house, they lost one. And now, they weren't dealing with solely chimeras, but a few defecting units, soldiers who had decided they had no reason to be faithful to their fuhrer and country. Attacking the chimeras on his own, allowing Roy to advance toward his home, had been easy enough, but chimeras only so intelligent. Fighting a human opponent was another story all together. These men were capable of dodging and fighting the vines the plant alchemist created, where they caught the chimeras off-guard.

So, instead, chimeras were mostly his territory, whereas he worked alongside Roy to go after the rebelling soldiers. Though neither man would admit it, thanks to their animosity over Aideen, they worked rather well together.

There was another blast, another capturing of a chimera, when Fletcher found himself now standing on the same block as the fuhrer's home.

"Fletcher! Behind you!" Roy yelled, giving the younger man a chance to turn, throw more of the seeds that wrapped around the large chimera as it was about to attack. Though Fletcher still earned a scratch on his leg that knocked him to his knees, it was obvious the injuries could have been much worse. Roy ran over to him, helping him to his feet, all antagonism forgotten. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"

"Yes, Sir. I was startled more than anything."

Roy nodded and the two stood, nearly back to back as they inched closer to the largest source of the chimeras and Aideen's reported location.

"We need to get back to Frank," Kain said to Riza as he dragged the man she'd captured behind him. The woman nodded and followed, keeping the gun she'd apparently gotten from her dead guard trained on her attacker's head. Along one of the side streets, there was a quick flash of something brown.

"What was that?" she asked.

"A chimera most likely, a mesh of different animals done through alchemy." There was a momentary pause from Riza before the two continued on with their prisoner. Kain heard from the radio on the prisoner's side the sound of Frank's voice, warning the troops against Aideen.

"Why is he warning against Aideen? An imposter?"

"It's too difficult to explain," Kain said, his pace quickening to the front of the tent where the child was defending Frank as he shot the thing. The girl's arm practically dissolved into a liquid, which she proceeded to force down the growling animal's mouth, drowning it quickly and retracting her arm back to herself. She looked down at her hand with disgust.

"It's covered in drool," she said, as though that was the only thing repulsive about what she'd done.

Then, she looked up at Kain with a smile. "I told you I would protect him."

0o0o0o0

Nicholas stepped into the cavern, trying not to immediately run to his father. If he did, it was almost certain that Dante would use that to her advantage.

"I said, fight me. At least it will be a fair fight. I'm coming into this knowing exactly who you are Dante, and knowing that my sister's trapped in there. You really should have warned the Thules not to send through your former lover. He figured you out and told me."

"And you have no problem fighting your twin sister?" Dante asked, spear in her hand.

"I've never had a problem fighting you. You look the same now as you did in the psychiatrist's office." Nicholas chuckled quietly. "And I felt guilty about that."

He clapped his hands and transformed his automail into a spike, the glove he'd gotten from his papa already on his right hand. "So," he said, circling the thing that was holding his sister captive, "I hope you've overcome your fear of death in the last 400 years because I'll guarantee you're not going to walk out of here alive."

"And what about your sister? Do you think she wants to die?" Dante asked, making the first move and lunging at Nicholas with the spear.

"Of course I do. I found the gun in her room. She's tried to kill herself to kill you." He easily dodged her attack and parried with his own automail before firing at Dante with his glove, shooting out a fireball which she avoided. "Why do you think she stopped fighting me? She stopped making her body strong enough to fight when it came down to it."

"Rather foolish of her," Dante said as she swiped the weapon at him again.

Nicholas jumped and slashed through the red coat, cutting his sister's body on the hip. "I wouldn't say that." The teen struggled to keep up the cool anger, tried to ignore that everything was telling him that this was his sister. Though he had to watch the body, whose prowess at fighting had been learned from Aideen's own training and from the spars against Nicholas, the teen tried to focus on her eyes. Aideen had a fiery temper, a rage that was immediate and white-hot. Dante did not. Dante was cold, and so were her eyes, even when they were technically Aideen's.

"Tried to make you all hate her too, but that didn't work out quite the way she wanted," Dante said with a smirk. "I was just too loveable."

"Not to me," Nicholas grunted, as he thrust the automail sword at her.

"No, not to you," Dante ducked and rolled. "and not to that damned Fletcher, but in the long run, neither of you mattered."

"I wouldn't say that," Nicholas said, seeing that Dante had clapped her hands and then her stomach. It was glowing, and he knew he had to make his move now. "I'm the one who's finally going to beat you!"

For just a second, she staggered as though suddenly light-headed, and Nicholas took his chance before her hands made their way to her chest. He couldn't explain how he did, but he knew that this would open the Gate if this simple move were completed.

He took no relish as he watched the sword he'd created from the end of his automail pierced between ribs, watched the cruel face melt, and saw his sister's eyes look at him in gratitude.

0o0o0o0

Russell was barricaded, still yelling out orders in spite of the pain in his arm. Drawing transmutation circles on the ground, he did what he could to attack the monsters coming through the underground city, but he was growing dizzy, certain he'd lost a lot of blood. Despite the fact that he might have to go on without Wrath, Russell wasn't ready to die, not yet. He wanted to make sure his brother was safe, to find out if Wrath really was gone, to make sure Central was safe, to know Dante was dead before he was.

But, as he sat there, Russell could feel life slipping away from him. He silently hoped that someone would find him. His thoughts went to Wrath, wondering if he was in a similar position somewhere in the city, wondering if he was hoping for Russell or anyone to come and save him.

Russell's thoughts returned to himself, to his situation. He knew that it wouldn't do any good to worry about him until he could save himself. What good would he be to Wrath, if he was alive, if he, himself, was dead? How could he possibly help anyone, fight another day if he gave up now or made a mistake while dwelling on his grief?

0o0o0o0

The chimeras' numbers seemed to finally be dwindling, and radio signals, sparse as they were, began reporting the same thing throughout the city. The battle was turning in their favor. Something hadn't gone as Dante had planned. Roy could only wish that it meant there was some hope for his daughter. A second message had gone across the radio, a warning about Aideen. It was prudent really, with the realization that if Dante had Aideen, she could possibly be Aideen, a fact that made Roy's stomach churn.

Roy left Fletcher standing at the front steps of his own house, Hohenheim not far away.

"I will be down after you if you are not back up soon!" Hohenheim yelled.

"Same here!" Fletcher yelled before capturing then killing yet another chimera.

Roy charged through the opening in his yard, through the dank tunnels, hearing the sounds of screaming, Ed's screaming. At first, he coulidn't make out the words, but the tone was distinct. He was pleading, demanding. And he sounded like he was in pain. Finally, he got close enough to make out words, only to wish that he wasn't able.

"Nicholas, stop! You don't know what you're doing! You can't bring her back!"

Ed was sobbing, and Roy could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Aideen? Bring her back? He was breathing faster, eyes stinging with tears that just waited to be shed.

He walked into a larger chamber, finding Ed bound to the floor, his automail gone, his head turned as far as it would go toward a nearby tunnel.

"Ed?"

"Roy!" Ed yelled out, his body twitching obviously uncontrollably. "Roy! Stop Nicholas now! And get me out of this!"

Roy glanced to the floor, finding an elaborate array spread across it, the body of his daughter bleeding onto it. Collapsing beside Ed, Roy struggled to once again get to his feet.

"Don't break down now!" Ed yelled, his voice just as tearful as Roy felt. "Stop him! He's going to make us lose them both, Roy! Stop him!"

"Nicholas?" Roy said, as his son emerged from the tunnel, holding what appeared to be a small child of ten in his arms. On Nicholas's head, chest and hands were symbols drawn with what appeared to be Aideen's blood. Roy stood to his feet, feeling as though moving through some tragic nightmare. He watched as Nicholas laid the girl's body next to Aideen's.

"Nicholas!" Ed said, his body still twitching in the restraints, his eyes wild and pain filled. The sound of the struggling voice startled Roy enough he moved toward his son, but Nicholas was too fast, clapping his hands and sending Roy hurtling backwards against the wall with a warm blast of air.

"Roy! Nicholas!" Ed's shaking voice cried out as their only son knelt over their daughter and clapped his hands, touching them to his bare chest and enveloping the three bodies. Roy struggled from his place at the wall to find that they were all gone.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60 **

_**Equivalent Exchange**_

Nicholas stood, holding an arm over his eyes to block out the bright white light. At his feet lay his sister's body, bleeding, heart nearly given up. On the other side was the body of what appeared to be a girl of ten, one who looked a few years older than the pictures his dad had once shown him of Nina Tucker.

He looked up at the large set of doors in front of him, a set of doors he remembered from his nightmares, remembered from when he'd been poisoned and sick, when conveniently, Aideen was the first person to comfort him. Thinking back on it, he didn't know what had frightened him more that night, the fact that he'd seen the Gate in all it's horrific glory or that his sister had looked at him so coldly. At four, he couldn't make sense of it, let alone explain it all, but now, with what he knew, it was so painfully obvious.

"I'm here to offer a trade!" he yelled. "Do you hear me? I'm offering you whatever is equivalent for my sister's wounds to be healed and for Dante's soul out of her body! I offer myself as the trade! Do you hear me?!"

0o0o0o0

How could he have been so stupid, so reckless? It was not Nicholas's place to make a sacrifice for his siter. It was Ed's as her father, as the one who couldn't manage to stop Dante, as the one who'd actually said he preferred Dante's behavior to his own daughter's.

"Ed, what did our son just do?" Roy asked, eyes wide as he released the bonds over Ed's trembling body.

"Sacrificed…" Ed said, struggling to keep his mouth functioning enough to form the words, "h-himself."

Roy helped Ed sit up. "What can we do?"

"I-I don't… know." Ed wanted to be strong, to be reassuring, but his entire body was a mass of stinging pain. "I don't think we can. Just wait."

Ed wanted to do more than wait, but couldn't admit to himself, let alone Roy, that the reason he wasn't was because, at the moment, he was incapable of doing much of anything.

"We need to get you to a doctor. Your arm and leg. And you're shaking."

"I'm not going… anywhere!" Ed said, looking defiantly at his husband. "We'll stay. They could b-be worse off… than me." Ed didn't add the words "if they get back," though he knew well enough that the transmutation Nicholas had used could very well mean he would never be seen, and with the Gate's sense of what was equivalent, it was hard to guess what would be "equivalent" trade for his own son.

"There must be something we can do." Roy looked down at Ed's face, searching for any sign that Ed was keeping something from him. All Ed could manage was a small shake and mouth the word "no." Roy looked down at him again. "Is there anything you would do if you could?" Roy asked again.

This time Ed nodded.

"What is it?"

"It wouldn't d-do any good, even if I tried to do what Nicholas did. I wo-would just be grabbing at st-straws."

"Ed, tell me everything," Roy said, cradling his twitching body against the wool of the blue uniform. "And stop fighting the tremors." Roy drew something on the ground, tears falling down his cheeks. They both knew one another well by now, and the fuhrer apparently wasn't buying that they were just waiting for their children's happy return.

With a touch of his hand to the transmutation circle he'd drawn into the dust of the ground, the hard stone suddenly felt softer beneath Ed's body. "That should make things more comfortable. Talk as you can, and stop trying to protect me from the truth."

Ed began to explain, all the while, Roy listened, drawing transmutations on a piece of paper and holding them to Ed's body.

"W-what are…" Ed struggled to ask more, but Roy cut off his attempts.

"I'm running diagnostics on you."

"Why the hell… a-are you d-doing that!" Ed asked, surprised at first that his voice had gotten so loud. "Why are you s-so, so calm?"

Roy firmly grabbed Ed's jaw. "I'm doing this because even if I'm not as good as my sister at it, I learned enough from our father to know you have massive nerve damage. I'm doing it because I want to see if I can help at all. I'm doing it because right now, taking care of you, you stubborn ass, is the only reason I'm not going mad trying to bring the twins back when you've told me there's nothing I can do! If we have to sit and wait, and hope the Gate turns things out the way we want to, then damn it, I'm going to take care of you and you're going to suck it up!"

Ed's eyes widened. Not since he was a teenager had his husband used that tone with him in anything more than a playful manner. Even as a teen, Ed wasn't sure he'd met Roy's wrath as he was tonight. And much as he wanted to yell back at the older man, regardless of pain and twitching, Ed didn't as he felt the coolness of Roy's tears falling down on his cheeks.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas knelt down beside his sister, trying to hold her wound closed, trying to stop that precious blood from escaping any further. "I've told you what I'm here for. Please! Please!" He continued to apply pressure to the wound, trying to perform whatever alchemy he could manage. "I'm powerful and I'm offering myself."

He continued to cry, his face wet with tears and his own sister's blood. He struggled to use alchemy to repair the damage that he, himself, had caused, all the while trying to remind himself that he'd had no choice.

"Nicholas?"

0o0o0o0

Raine Mustang didn't want to give up. He was so young, only a little older than the twins. It couldn't end this way.

"Dr. Mustang, there is nothing more you can do," one of the nurses said.

Raine tried a few final transmutations, anything that might save this boy, this cadet, this friend of her family's. There had been too much death, too much loss. She just couldn't give up.

"Dr. Mustang, there are others."

Others. Of course there were others. Raine's hands glowed as she held them over the still-bleeding chest. She couldn't lose this boy while things were still so unresolved between him and Aideen. As much as Raine wanted to defend her niece, but the simple fact was that despite it all, she couldn't believe this young man had taken advantage of her, or at least taken advantage of anything more than the situation.

"Phillip," she said. "Come on! You're stronger than this."

"Dr. Mustang!" the nurse said, pulling Raine from the teenager's body.

Raine only nodded her head, closing her eyes and stepping back. She was so tired of war, didn't really know if she could handle this if it lasted much longer.

"Time of death, 3:48 a.m."

0o0o0o0

"Phillip?" Nicholas said. "No, you can't be here. Not like, not like that."

Phillip seemed distant, only half-taking in the scene before him. He glanced down at Aideen. "Take care of her. I really did love her. Didn't mean to…"

The Gate opened up, the light from within the doors brighter than even that around it. It was nothing like the black thing he'd remembered from his nightmares. Beyond the door, Nicholas could see people, ones he didn't recognize very well, but he was sure that two of them looked like General Armstrong's parents.

"Bye."

"Phillip! You can't! I…" Nicholas started to turn, remembering once again that the pressure on his sister's side was probably the only thing guaranteeing her own soul didn't move on following Phillip's. Again, Nicholas sobbed. "Phillip!"

But the older teen stepped into the light and vanished.

0o0o0o0

There were a few of Frank's traits that Kain would have readily changed, none more so than his obstinate attitude, which he was displaying in all its glory at the moment. Though he was injured and could have used the support of the smaller man, even if as nothing more than a crutch, Frank insisted on continuing as if nothing was wrong.

Already, moving through the streets, they had encountered another chimera, which Riza, thankfully, dispatched of with the gun she'd gotten from her guard. Though he was growing war-weary, if Kain had to witness another death, he preferred not seeing the girl, who was currently guarding Frank like a fiercely loyal pet, drown one of the monsters with her hand.

Kain looked down at her, surprised to find her hand clinging to the flap at the bottom of Frank's coat, not like a pet, but as though she was his… Kain shook his head, knowing it was better not to think like that. She was a homunculus, and though he suspected Roy would have slightly better intentions than Fuhrer Bradley when it came to anything rare alchemically, there was that nagging doubt in Kain's mind. Aside from that, there was the simple reminder of just how successful they'd been thus far at finding a child.

No, it was better to think of this overly caring girl as a temporary ward for the two older men, not as anything permanent.

There was the sound of gunfire again, and before Kain could react, he found the girl, somehow now at his side on the ground. Riza and Frank returned fire, shooting down the soldier who'd just tried to attack him.

"Little girl?" Kain said, dropping down beside her. "Nina?"

Violet eyes looked up at him and smiled. "I like my body," she said, as though that was the most logical statement in the world after being shot. She pointed to a bullet hole in the ground. "It went in me and in another direction." Like a bullet striking water, that was exactly what had happened. "Why do people want to put those metal things in you two?" she asked, head tilted oddly to the side.

"I don't know." Kain answered, standing upright as she did.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Those things hurt Frank, but not me. Would they have hurt you too? Because I don't want you to get hurt. The big man told me to find you, and you're really nice." She smiled up at him and took his hand, as though this entire situation was perfectly normal and they were strolling through the streets on a few errands.

And, much as Kain didn't want to picture it, the idea of doing exactly that, just him, Frank, and the girl, was a very pleasant one.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas didn't know what he'd done wrong. He'd spent the last few minutes watching the dead come and go through the Gate, a sickened part of him expecting to watch his own sister passing though with them.

"Damn you! Do something!"

"Why is it that everyone who comes here feels the need to use such language?"

Nicholas fell backwards, hearing a voice, feeling s though it was everywhere, and yet only in his mind at once. "Y-you can talk to me. Does that mean I'm dead?" Nicholas feared the answer to this, knowing that he had to be alive to offer anything to the Gate.

"Not at all. You just never properly tied yourself to your world. You can thank Dante for that. She used you as a key just as you were solidifying yourself to that world. You merely retained the gift you were able to share with your father before you were born."

"As interesting as that is, would you please do something about my sister?"

"And what is it you would like done?"

"You know damned well what it is!" Nicholas bit his lip, trying to control the temper that once present was hard to restrain. "I want my sister's body repaired before her soul is gone from it, and I want Dante's out of my sister."

"And I would suppose that you want the alien soul to be placed into that body at your side."

"Yes. Please! I'm offering you whatever you want of me.

"You do realize that the transmutation you used to bring yourself here signifies a complete sacrifice on your part."

Nicholas only nodded.

0o0o0o0

Al speared through yet another chimera. He didn't know if he should be grateful he was underground, having to only face off again the creatures. He'd heard reports that above in Central, some of the troops had decided to rebel and were attacking one another.

But still as another of the chimeras died at his hands. He couldn't help the shudder that ran down his spine. Killing was killing, sometimes it had a greater effect on the conscience, but Al still felt nauseous each and every time he'd done it. He'd argued with Ed years ago when his brother said he wasn't designed to be a soldier, but Al understood now why Ed had been so stubbornly protective of him.

Strangely, Al found a rounded mound of stone on the street, something that could only be alchemically produced. With a clap of his hands, Al broke through the stone, only to be faced with a gun pointed at him half-heartedly.

"Russell?" Al asked as he saw the man inside, blood covering him.

"Glad it was you," Russell said, looking like he was very near passing out. "Covered myself," Russell took a strained breath. "all the way. Thought I was going to die."

"Well, you're not." Al said, clapping his hands and closing over the wound on Russell's arm.

"Didn't know you could… do that."

"I learned a few tricks," the younger Elric said with a smile as he lifted Russell from his self-created barricade. "I'm going to have to throw you over my shoulder until we can get you to the hospital or a clinic."

"Whatever." Russell was limp in Al's arms. "Just not rough."

Al didn't know what would have happened to his friend if he hadn't found him when he did. It was obvious Russell had lost a lot of blood, enough that there was still a risk if Al didn't get the man to the surface quickly.

0o0o0o0

"I knew what I was doing when I was doing it," Nicholas answered.

"Well, restoring your sister's body, that is simple enough. Hardly necessary of an entire body for sacrifice."

To Nicholas's shock, his sister's body began to glow, the wound closing itself, the pallor in her cheeks gone as the blood seemed replenished.

"And your other request, well, the same was done for your father, putting his brother in another vessel. That cost him a arm, if memory serves."

"You know that's what it cost him," Nicholas all but growled, thinking of his father, tortured by Dante and lying twitching on the floor.

"Temper, young Mustang."

"Just do it! Take what you need and do it!"

"Tell me, do you believe this is fair? Exchanging a functioning body for one that has no strength in it?"

"Is it fair that my sister only got to live a half-life?"

"Very well. I would say, a few limbs will be all that will be necessary."

Nicholas tried not to cry for himself, tried not to hate himself for his selfishness. More automail, if he survived the blood loss. But he could live, and for the first time in her life, so could his sister.

0o0o0o0

Roy paced around the transmutation circle his son had created, trying to make some sense of this. It meant next to nothing to him, aside from the fact it had allowed his son to completely vanish before him. His eyes followed every line, trying to find something that he wasn't seeing, something that Ed didn't know. In his frustration and strained mental state, he started to laugh.

How would he manage to find something that the people's alchemist, the Fullmetal Alchemist, an alchemist who encountered the Gate twice, communicated with it once, couldn't? He was fuhrer, he was a fire alchemist, but he didn't understand more than a few symbols on this design, a circle his own son had drawn and used, he was useless at interpreting.

And the laughter wouldn't stop. He felt so useless, so devastated, that his laughter became nothing but pained hiccups, then coughs, then sobs.

"Roy?" Ed's voice said, as his trembling body strained to turn, his eyes hardly able to focus. "Don't lose it now."

He felt so useless, so worthless. His daughter was wounded, possibly dead, his son gone, maybe for good. And Roy realized that if this was permanent, his mind would be just as lost. He'd have Ed, but still he wasn't sure he'd manage to go on without them.

"Roy? Nicholas?" a warm voice called from the tunnels. Roy couldn't stop crying, even to respond.

"In here!" Ed yelled, his voice having regained some of its steadiness after Roy's small attempts to repair the nerve damage done to his husband, damage that he questioned if even his sister could manage to fix.

Hohenheim stepped into the faintly lit area, looking first at Roy, trying to go to the man currently leaning against the wall. He then scanned for Ed, and finding him on the cushioned floor that Roy had created, and stopped mid-step to try to go to his son.

Roy merely watched, doubled over, hands on his knees. He didn't panic, not like this, but never had it seemed so certain he would lose either of them, let alone both.

Under the fringe of his own white hair, Roy looked on as Hohenheim discovered the array on the floor, gasping with a comprehension Roy wished he'd had. Maybe if he'd known what Nicholas had been doing, he could have stopped him.

"Who…?" Hohenheim said, looking between the two fathers. "Nicholas?" Ed was once again trembling so strongly that any shake or nod of his head would have been indiscernible. Roy managed a few short bobs of his own head, seeing the worry in the older man's eyes before closing his own to shut it all out. He had to regain his composure, remind himself that he had an army above fighting. Remind himself that coming back, if anyone did, could be the enemy who had started this entire battle.

Opening his eyes again and focusing on Ed, he saw his husband's face twisted in pain. How he was still conscious with that kind of pain was beyond the fuhrer, but he knew long ago that Ed was stronger than him, stronger than nearly anyone. But as he saw the small blond shaking, Roy again walked over to the younger man's side and held him.

"You're sure there's nothing more we can do than wait?"

"No, I don't know, I…" Roy pulled Ed into his arms, careful not to hurt him any more than Ed already was on his own.

"I shouldn't keep asking you." Roy held Ed to his chest, looking up at the eldest alchemist, who had been hovering nearby. "Hohenheim?"

"Aside from sacrificing ourselves," Hohenheim said. "I know of nothing else, and I am even unsure what that would do without the aid of a philosopher's stone." The man looked on as lost as the heartbroken parents.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas felt the Gate engulf him and the two bodies at his side.

"You are very unique, the heart of your family. You can communicate here, and have a comprehension for a different, emotional alchemy that your sister could never manage. There are many things you have yet to learn."

That sensation of information flooding his mind just made him feel as though his head might explode. He had a feeling that for the knowledge currently going into his head, there would be yet another sacrifice to make. But from what he could retain thus far, he felt certain it was worth it.

He had expected darkness and hands, grasping at him, ripping his body apart, but even as the light faded, he found only the cavern once again, his fathers at once side, waiting together, Hohenheim not far away, watching anxiously at his return.

Nicholas expected pain, glancing down at his legs, both intact, looking at his arms, both there.

"Nicholas!" The three men opposite him, yelled out in unison.

Now, fearing that the sacrifice had been the very thing he'd been making the sacrifice for, he looked down at his sister, finding her unconscious, but noticeably breathing, and whole at his side. At the other, was the body of Tucker's doll daughter, an arm and two legs gone, bleeding profusely, face contorted in pain.

The Gate had been fair? It had been just?

He knelt beside the doll's body, using what he could remember to stop the bleeding, needing to look into the girl's eyes to ensure that this was in fact Dante. He couldn't manage to trust the Gate, knowing what it had done to his father, uncle, and so many others before them.

He closed his eyes, clapped his hands and sealed over the three stumps, grabbing the girl's face to find icy cold eyes looking back at him, Dante's eyes.

"I-I did it!" He yelled out at the top of his lungs, laughing in near hysterics, so loudly that he didn't notice his papa coming over to him and smacking him across the face, just briefly making him wonder if someone had swapped his two fathers' souls.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

0o0o0o0

Fletcher stood outside of the fuhrer's mansion, the chimeras finally dwindled down to nothing but a few squirming corpses on the lawn. He watched as Hohenheim appeared, cradling a child who appeared to have been mutilated by something, having lost both legs and an arm. He saw behind him the figure of the fuhrer, carrying Ed in a similar state.

"Aideen," Fletcher murmured, fearing the condition he'd find her in.

Almost wanting to cheer out in victory, Fletcher saw Nicholas cradling his sister so tenderly there was no doubt that she, herself, was in there.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61 **

**_Introductions _**

They were in the hospital, several hours later, Aideen still hadn't moved. She was still clinging to Nicholas's borrowed scrub shirt, her forehead pressed against his shoulder, sleeping on her side in his arms. He knew he was only a few minutes older, but somehow, he felt the need to act as the protective older brother. Her breathing was even and deep, though the occasional whimper, the way her body tightened onto itself bothered Nicholas more than he could express.

Aideen had been unbreakable, or so it seemed. And though he hadn't been told as much, Nicholas was more than aware of the fact that she had seemed genuinely terrified of Phillip. Worse yet, the elder twin had a slight suspicion that the night Phillip had spent with her had been a tactic on Dante's part. Problem was, Nicholas had a feeling that its results, whether planned by Dante or not, would be something for the entire family to deal with.

Laying next to his sister, he let her quietly sob against him, the hand not fisting tightly in his stiff shirt laid protectively on her abdomen. His mind, however was drifting away, back to the information that the Gate had crammed into his head. Thinking back on it, the first part was something he was probably aware of, likely inherited from either of his father's encounters with the Gate. It was understanding the way his emotions affected and amplified his own alchemy. It was also a faint explanation of why he, as a child just nearing the end of the phase where his soul could be used as a key to the Gate, never cemented his connection to the world, or at least his soul's. While Phillip hadn't been used as a key at such a late age, Nicholas had, and Dante didn't realize that he always could have always been afterwards.

That, he came to understand through the Gate, and he was already more than aware of the way his emotions tended to add power to his own alchemy. It was why he was more successful when it came to medical alchemy, the emotional element, the idea of intent involved, than his sister had been.

It was the other two bits of information that were causing him the greatest problem as he held his sister in his arms. The first was detailed, a history of a world that hadn't existed, one where Aideen had died at childbirth, one where his parents had suffered an enormous loss. This world would have been one where both parents eventually died, as did he, where new rulers, cruel rulers, took over. So much death, even more than…

Nicholas closed his eyes and ran a hand over his sister's hair, wanting to do nothing more than protect her, and wondering if maybe that final piece of information could play into that. Perhaps it had something to do with her hand resting on her abdomen.

Regardless of what he was supposed to do with those last additions to his knowledge, he did realize that neither one was something he could share with his sister, not now.

There was another whimper, and her head moved from beneath his hand. "Aideen?" he said.

"Nicholas?" she said, her first words since the visit to the Gate.

"What is it? Do you need water? Food?" Nicholas was inching back to look at her.

"Food? No." She closed her eyes, tiny tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "Just, can you…" She buried her face into his chest. "Just talk? It's so quiet. It's never been this quiet."

Nicholas realized exactly what this meant for his sister. For the first time, she was alone in her head. He rested his cheek on her dark hair.

"Did I tell you that I kissed Victor?" Nicholas asked, pausing just a moment as he felt his sister shake her head, just slightly beneath his cheek. "Well, the girls at school, they rank the guys…"

0o0o0o0

Roy had finished yet another phone call dealing with the slowly resolving issues from this most recent attack and rebellion. He wanted to touch Ed, to run a hand over his husband's face, but as the pain from the nerve damage had gotten so bad Ed had passed out, Roy didn't dare touch him. He could only watch with intense worry, eyes following every twitch of Ed's face, every involuntary movement of his body.

There was a faint rapping on the door, a head of silvery-white hair leaning in, dark eyes meeting Roy's. "I need to do another check on him, Roy."

The younger brother looked to his sister and nodded, feeling her hand ruffle his hair as though he was twelve once again as she passed him to get to his husband.

He watched in nervousness as she clapped her hands and scanned over Ed's body. Roy's working eye took in the sight of his husband's still-pained form, then each flash of expression on his sister's face. He looked for a sign of something, anything.

"Raine?" he asked, tentatively.

She closed her eyes and exhaled as though she'd been holding that breath throughout the scan. "The damage is bad, Pyro. The nerves in the rest of his system will recover, but the ports and nodes, I can't be sure they'll ever be able to accept automail. And even if they can, I'm not sure what mobility or feeling he'll have in it."

Roy nodded his head, preparing to rub his husband's left arm and halting himself.

"You can touch him, Roy. It will probably feel good now that the initial pain has worn off."

Again, he bobbed his head, his smooth hand rubbing over the overheated and clammy flesh of his husband's left arm. "And Aideen?"

Raine smiled sadly at him. "Physically fine, considering. But when she's ready, she'll need to talk to you."

"Raine? What do you know?"

"I know that I'm a doctor even before I'm your sister or that girl's aunt. And I trust Princess to tell you."

Roy wished his daughter would have just told him, would have let him in the room with her. But she clung to Nicholas dearly, and the only time her eyes opened was to look at him, ashamed and with complete and total dread. Without a single word, his only daughter had made it very clear that she didn't want him around, and at the moment, Ed was all he had to cling to for his own sanity's sake.

0o0o0o0

Kain hadn't intended to fall asleep at his husband's bedside, but he'd been given a few hours to take a break from barking orders, and Frank had been sound asleep, Nina at his side, watching, observing.

Kain felt as though he'd failed, as the condition that Nina would stay with him had been that someone would be present at all times to watch the homunculus.

As his eyes opened, Kain found Nina holding a glass of water to Frank's mouth, as he guided the straw with his right hand to his lips, his left arm completely useless from his injury. Frank took a sip of the liquid before looking over at the younger man.

"So, Rip Van Winkle finally woke up."

"Rip Van… Never mind," Kain said, looking over at the girl.

"It's a story," Frank said. "From where I come from." Apparently, Kain's husband wasn't sure about talking about his world just yet around the little girl.

"The water, where did you get it?" Kain asked.

"The kid," Frank said as Nina lowered the glass and carefully placed it on a bedside table. Though Frank looked pleased with her and the strange little girl looked, dare he think it, proud of her little achievement, Kain felt more than a little uneasy at it. He'd promise nearly half of the military brass—all of which happened to be his friends—that he would keep a close eye on the child.

"I asked a lady in white for it."

"A nurse." Frank supplied.

"And the nurse gave it to me. She said it was sweet of me to get it for my father." The girl tucked her legs up on the seat beside her. "I think it's funny she thought I was your daughter. I don't look like either of you. Daughters are supposed to, I think."

"Not if you're adopted," Frank said, rubbing her head with his good hand. "And since Kain and I don't have the equip—up, ability to have a child of our own, if we had a daughter, she'd be adopted."

The brown head bobbed in understanding.

"How do you know so much about daughters?" Kain asked. In the short time he'd known her, he'd learned that the girl's knowledge seemed to range from all-knowing to lacking entirely.

She shrugged. "Some from the big guy, some from when I was made. He really wanted his daughter."

"So you know you were made," Kain said, getting a warning look from his husband to tread lightly.

"Yeah. I don't know what the big guy did, but I know things I shouldn't, and I think it's because of him. Other than the stuff he told me, like the redstones. That's why I didn't take them."

"You didn't?" Kain was confused. "Then, your eyes… They should have been green or blue, I think. If you were based off of Nina."

"Unless Wrath gave something of himself to her like Ed's limbs to him…" Frank said, almost absently. "Looks like we've got his baby sister, more or less."

There was silence for a while, before the girl looked up at Frank. "Do you need anything else?" The older man faintly shook his head and looked as if it had pained him to do so. "Okay. So, why did they let me stay with you? The old blond guy, he acted like he wanted to take me somewhere."

"General Havoc," Kain corrected, looking over Frank's bed at the large violet eyes, Wrath's eyes, "was worried about leaving you with us. He didn't want you to get hurt."

"Sounded more like he thought I'd hurt other people." She smiled a little too devilishly for Kain's liking. "Did they let me stay with you because I got so angry?"

"Of course not," Frank said, eying her cautiously.

"Oh, because I was just wondering." Her voice grew very quiet, barely loud enough to be heard. "What would it take to stay for good?"

Kain would never admit it, but he had thought the same thing himself.

0o0o0o0

Walking through the cafeteria line, Fletcher Tringham was surprised to find the fuhrer, looking very ragged, probably worse than even Fletcher, himself, felt. The silvery-haired man nodded his head in acknowledgement of the blond's presence, and moved up through the line, others deferring their spot to him, until he was nearly to the front where Fletcher stood.

"I am surprised to see you here," Roy said, bluntly.

"Russell's sleeping. Medicated sleep, actually, so the doctor said he'd be out for hours." Fletcher took the tray of food he'd ordered, grimacing at the color of what was supposed to be beef stew. "I could say the same for you. Being surprised, I mean."

"Ed wanted something sweet. Didn't care for the beef stew. He said it tasted terrible." Roy, then, seemed to acknowledge what Fletcher had on the plastic tray. "Of course, Ed has an infamous sweet tooth, so who's to say."

"How is he?" Fletcher asked, genuinely concerned for his long-time friend, while the back of his mind screamed for word on Aideen's status.

"In pain." Roy stared at the wall opposite the serving line blankly.

"And the twins?"

"Nicholas is fine, passed all medical scans." Fletcher looked at Roy anxiously, waiting for more. The older man sighed, looking more his age, even beyond it, than Fletcher could ever remember. "Aideen is physically fine."

Fletcher only nodded, fishing in his pocket for some money before handing it over to the cashier. "And you?"

Roy seemed curious that the younger man would ask. They'd been at odds since Fletcher had kissed what he'd thought was Aideen, but it didn't mean he had no respect for the man, and it certainly didn't mean he couldn't worry after his health.

"I'm exhausted, to be honest."

Fletcher nodded, taking his change from the woman at the cash register. Then, before Roy could pay for the three pudding containers he'd bought, Fletcher patted the fuhrer on the shoulder.

"I understand," he said. "Maybe not as well, maybe not to your extent, but… Well, I'm going to be here with Russell for a while, when I'm not helping with clean-up."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Did you just offer me a shoulder to so-to-speak 'cry on?'"

"Lean on," Fletcher corrected.

"Thank you," Roy said.

Realizing the truce here, Fletcher held out his hand. "Hello, I'm Major Fletcher Tringham, the Green Alchemist. I specialize in plant alchemy, have an older brother named Russell and hope to one day to prove myself to a young woman and her family."

Fletcher watched as Roy took his hand and shook it in introduction. "I'm Fuhrer Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. I specialize in fire alchemy, am married to Edward Elric and have twins, Nicholas and Aideen. And I've decided that I'm going to be less critical."

0o0o0o0

Hohenheim stood, looking down at the form of the girl now housing Dante. "Well, Dante? You just couldn't learn that my sons are a force that is much too powerful." The eyes rolled in her head, trying to move or fight him. "That body of yours has never moved since it's creation. I doubt you're going to be much of a threat anymore."

Dante's eyes were wide and angry. "And I assure you, that the fate you used some poor soul for to open the gate will be your own. Though I would like nothing more than to stay here with my family, Riza and I need to get back through the Gate."

Though Hohenheim wasn't a spiteful man by nature, that side of his personality having almost vanished over the years, he scowled at the woman in the child's recovering body. "I will have no issue handing you over to the Gate."

0o0o0o0

Ed tried to cover the tears when he saw Roy coming through the door. He'd been trying to fight them since he'd woken up. When he'd realized he couldn't, he'd sent Roy on a mission for something sweeter. Though the beef stew had tasted absolutely terrible, Ed really hadn't had much in the way of an appetite. He'd just wanted Roy out of the room while he allowed himself to cry more uncontrollably than he could remember even during the pregnancy.

And, as that thought crossed his mind, exhaustion and lingering pain helped his emotions break loose again. He'd given birth to Aideen and he hadn't been able to tell the difference between his own daughter and the bitch Dante. He'd actually believed he preferred that false behavior from Dante over his own daughter. He'd ignored all the times Aideen had tried to warn him, tried to guide him to save her. He'd ripped out all of that research, which he was certain now was left out so that he would find it and do something to rescue her. If he had, he could have stopped Dante from…

He shook his head, the tears flowing more freely.

"Ed?" Roy's concerned voice said. There was the sound of the pudding containers hitting the table, the feel of Roy climbing into the bed beside him, then stopping before they touched. "I'm sorry. Are you hurting?"

Ed shook his head. He was so exhausted, so tired of it all. "The pain killers are working okay," he said, as Roy's arms wrapped around him, his one remaining arm doing the same to his husband. "Roy, I screwed up so bad. I should have known. I should have seen."

"We both should have, Ed. I'm just as guilty."

"How could we not have seen it?" Ed said, his face buried in his husband's chest. "We're supposed to be her parents." Ed couldn't deny that he was still in pain, but nothing was going to change the feeling of hundreds of pins and needles poking every inch of his body. "We missed it and because of that, Dante got Aideen raped. Raped, Roy." Ed continued to cry, not knowing how or if he would even stop. "Even if Phillip didn't… Aideen didn't want it."

Roy had lifted Ed from the bed, and as Ed was positioned on his lap, a warm hand rubbing over the smaller back, but the feeling of something wet at the crown of his head told Ed that, at least, he wasn't alone crying. "We didn't want to believe it could happen, Ed. All we can do now is cope and help her."

"But Dante tried to use her to open the Gate. Who knows what kind of damage that could do? It shouldn't even be possible." Then, as much as he could, Ed pulled back. "Unless… Oh, shit, Roy. Dante had her raped to get her pregnant. She's pregnant, Roy."

"We don't know that." Roy said, but his eyes looked afraid, what little color had remained on that pale skin long gone.

"Roy, she could be carrying a child who was supposed to be a key to the Gate. What do we tell her?"

"_If_ it's true, we'll work with her on this, whatever her decision. And we'll support her."

"Of course we will." Ed said, defiantly. "But, it isn't fair. It isn't a decision she should have to make."

There was knocking at the door. Raine's head popping in a few seconds later. She took one look at Ed and immediately ran to the bed. "Baby? Is it pain? Are you okay?"

"He's hurting," Roy answered for him, much to Ed's surprise. It seemed his he kept underestimating how much his husband knew about him. "But that's not the reason for this."

"Baby?" Raine said, standing at Ed's side. "Let's see if I can give you a little more in the way of painkillers, and you two can tell me what's going on here."

"Aideen," Ed answered, watching as Raine clapped her hands and scanned over his body. She said nothing, but seemed to understand. Then, Ed felt the blissful sensation of his body's natural painkillers being released into his system. It didn't quite take away the prickling feeling all over his body, his remaining body, his mind reminded him. He had been so concerned about his daughter, he hadn't thought about himself. Even still, it helped him from dwelling on the loss of his limbs, the idea that he might never…

He wouldn't allow himself to focus on that. Not now.

There was another knock at the door, one which Ed was grateful for. "Dad? Papa?" Nicholas said as he stepped inside, a somber, wizened look on his face.

"Nicholas, shouldn't you be in with Aideen?" Roy asked. Ed, however, had hope that his daughter might have sent Nicholas to tell them they could finally see her.

"She wanted me to go to the cafeteria." Nicholas folded his arms across his chest. "I think," He paused. "I think she could see you now. She seemed willing."

There was a part of Ed that tensed at his son's words. Who was he to decide whether they saw their own daughter? He was a teenager. He was their son.

He was also the only one she'd trusted to be with her after the Gate.

"Just please, prepare yourselves to see her," Nicholas said. "Especially you, Dad. Aideen is so sure you're going to hate her, most of all Dad. If she sees you looking at her with fear, I don't know how she'll react. This isn't the usual strong Aideen. She feels very guilty and she's so weak because of it." Nicholas's eyes darted down to Ed's body, the tiniest flash of pity written across his features. "And seeing you is going to be hard enough."

Nicholas crossed the room, wrapping his arms around Ed. "Dad, I know I've been dealing with Aideen, but…" There was a quick intake of breath, as though he was fighting back tears. "I'm just so glad you're here."

"Me too," Roy said.

Nicholas released Ed, struggling to meet his eyes instead of the missing limbs. "Well, I'm off to the cafeteria for some toast and water for Aideen. Do you need help?"

"No," Roy said. "We're okay."

Nicholas hugged Roy, then Ed once again before leaving the room. Ed couldn't help but feel terrible, knowing that their son had grown up last night, it seemed, and Ed might have stopped that, too.

Roy was gentle, but he still startled Ed as he pulled the smaller man into his arms, Raine moving to grab a wheelchair from the hallway. Though she hadn't exactly given permission, it was obvious she felt this was better for Ed than staying in the bed.

The small alchemist struggled not to wince or groan in pain as Roy shifted him to the wheelchair. He hated to imagine what this would have felt like if he hadn't been given the pain killers by Raine. Though she was slowly trying to heal his nerves, keeping him medicated and comfortable was the most important at the moment.

As the chair came in, Roy carefully placed him in the chair, belting him in place. Ed couldn't help but wonder how long he might be dependent on his husband. Would it be a few months? Would it be forever?

He shook his head. His children were more important, and until he saw a twinkle of mischief in Nicholas's eyes again or saw to it that Aideen got to live the life her twin had gotten for her, Ed felt selfish for worrying about his own life.

"You okay?" Roy asked, looking just as anxious at the prospect of seeing their daughter. Ed could only manage a nod. Frowning unconsciously at his own situation once again, Ed allowed himself to be pushed forward down the hall. Together, the older man and the younger went down the hall, Raine leading them through the set of silver doors and to a pine one, where they knew their daughter was waiting.

Raine knocked on the door, opening it slightly. "Princess? Your fathers are here for you."

"O-okay," a timid voice said inside.

"Go on in. I'll leave you alone for a while. Don't get her too worked up." Raine looked down at Ed. "You either. I'm only letting you leave that bed because I think you need this. Understand me, Baby?"

"Yes, _ma'am,_" he answered, putting emphasis on the ma'am she dreaded so much.

"Don't push your luck."

As they entered the room, Ed was faced with a very small looking daughter, as she sat on her bed, knees tucked up to her chest, eyes watching their every mood. In the back of his mind, Ed had expected to show a sign of fear when he saw her. But he couldn't help but feel that this girl sitting on the bed was hardly recognizable as his daughter, let alone the host of Dante who'd injured him.

"Aideen?" Ed said, his voice far more quiet than he'd expected.

"I-I" There were tears clinging to her eyes. "Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did—"

"You didn't do anything!" Ed said, much too loudly. He then lowered his voice. "That wasn't you."

Roy pushed them closer, just enough so that he could reach out a hand to her.

"I should have stopped her." The tears were running.

"And we should have recognized she was there," Roy said. The three were silent, as though nothing they wanted to convey could be spoken. Ed couldn't find the nerve to ask the questions on his mind, and it seemed the same of both his husband and their daughter. Then Roy, out of nowhere, stuck out his hand. "Roy Irving Mustang. I'm fuhrer of Amestris, but most importantly, I'm your papa. Nice to meet you."

Seeing what Roy was doing, Ed stuck his own hand out. "Edward Warren Elric. I'm your dad, first of all. Though some call me the Fullmetal Alchemist."

There was a bit of warmth in the young teen's eyes, though there was no smile as she took both their hands. "I'm Aideen Riza Mustang. I'm your daughter." Her hands drew theirs to her stomach, almost nervously, eyes filling up again. "And this… is your granddaughter."


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62 **

_Aideen_

Aideen had had a hard time convincing her fathers to leave after dropping that bombshell on them. She had debated waiting to tell them the truth, just taking their brief visit to make sure they were both still intact—or not, in her Dad's case. But Aideen had always been observant. She could see it on their faces. They knew. And if they knew, there was a chance they'd suggest she abort the baby.

Aideen knew if they made such a suggestion, she'd be tempted to agree. Her daughter—she wondered if that thought would become less difficult—deserved better. Ensuring that the child she now carried would live seemed the least Aideen could do. After all, technically, this child that was probably little more than the size of a bean had defeated Dante. Nicholas had fought, there was no denying, but Dante, in her concentration on the battle, had lost all focus on controlling the natural symptoms of pregnancy. The baby had made her dizzy, and Dante had faltered in the battle.

Aideen pulled herself out of the bed where her brother was sleeping soundly. She ran a hand over his hair, trying not to wake him. Aideen had debated whether to feel angry at him or grateful. She'd expected to die, had even hoped that she would, but here she stood, very much alive. She had a future and didn't have a damned clue what to do about or with it.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, moving away from the sleeping form on the bed. She moved to the tiny window, looking out at the city from her fourth story room. The destruction was obvious. There were fires scattered, tents set up for first aid treatment, and as wounded continued to come in, Aideen doubted she'd be allowed the sanctuary that the hospital provided. She'd give her room up to someone who needed it. Mentally, she supposed she could manage to heal anywhere, and physically the only thing wrong with her—her hand slipped to her abdomen—wasn't technically something "wrong".

The young woman looked out her window, trying and failing miserably not to feel guilty. Her every waking minute dwelled on how she might have been able to stop Dante, even when her thoughts turned to her daughter.

Watching firefighters not far from the hospital struggling to put out a blaze and seeing the signs of large transmutations in the distance, the sheer destruction from the two back-to-back attacks was staggering to the teenager. Standing there looking out at the disaster that her hands, if not her mind and soul, had created, Aideen could have cried, would have cried, but it seemed for the moment that all her tears were long gone. She'd been sobbing all day, soaking the scrub shirt her brother had been loaned by some of the nurses, between the guilt and slowly increasing hormones.

Looking out at the devastation, her thoughts went to Phillip. She knew that they had worked to save him here at the hospital, and she knew that the bulletwound had been beyond even her Auntie's capabilities. More consciously than usual, Aideen's arms wrapped around her stomach. It was strange to think that all that was left of him she carried.

Making the decision for herself, she walked to the door. The thought crossed her mind of what exactly she was going to say in order to get the right to see him. She wasn't family, and it was pretty well-publicized that they weren't dating. Would she just walk up to the mortician or his secretary and explain that she was carrying Phillip Armstrong's child?

She huffed, not quite a laugh, not entirely a sigh. Sure, she'd go right ahead and do that. And while she was at it, she'd go ahead and let the entire world know she was pregnant.

But the fact that she might not get to see him and receive some kind of closure on what could have been a long-lasting friendship had Dante not been involved didn't deter her as she stepped into the dimly lit hallway.

She walked by corridors and rooms to reach the stairs. Going down them couldn't be too strenuous, and it wasn't as though she was at a point where even climbing back up should have been a problem. As fluidly as her papa, she moved down the steps as though with a single motion, her grace failing a bit as her mind decided to recall the very worst memories of the man she was going to pay her respects to.

_Dante seemed to have doubled her power over Aideen after the incident with Phillip. From the back of her mind, Aideen had to watch as Dante guided their feet—always theirs, never just hers—toward the Armstrong mansion. Aideen prayed that her brother was still there, possibly capable of deterring the woman from following through with her plans. _

She'd known for a month what Dante planned to do, that the evil woman who had gradually taken over so much of their body and Aideen's life. Dante had actually found a way to manipulate their body in a way that no medical alchemist could do to their own. She had discovered how to make it more fertile, a perfect "host for a third party."

Aideen thought it was disgusting, perverse to call the idea of being pregnant being "host" to something, as though the baby would be some alien creature, or a parasitic monster such as Dante herself.

Even Aideen's protests had gotten her nowhere, refusing to see anyone, trying to distance herself from potential partners like Phillip and Fletcher, and distance herself from her family as each night Aideen brought a pistol to their mouth in hopes that one day Dante's power over their body would lessen enough for the trigger to be pulled.

Dante considered it a concession on her part that she'd "allowed" them to seek out Fletcher first. There was little hiding it from anyone, let alone the woman who literally knew her every thought, that Aideen had always cared for the older man. The only reason she didn't call it love was because she wouldn't allow herself that, because she wouldn't risk him being hurt because of her feelings. 

Aideen shook her head, trying to clear away those memories before they continued on their unpleasant path. She had enough nightmares of Dante using her body—it felt less strange to lay claim to it as her own now, though she couldn't say why—to seduce Phillip and eventually trade off with Aideen before the act was complete.

_"Wouldn't want you trying to destroy the little one thinking it could be mine. "_ Dante's words as they swapped positions from the back to the forefront of the mind still made her shudder. Sad fact that it was, if Dante had been in control, Aideen might have been able to convince herself that her daughter would be evil, would have been able to convince herself to get rid of her. But Aideen did at least know that the child she carried had been conceived in a time when Dante had given over all control of the body they shared. Dante hadn't needed the child to be her own, just there to be used as a key to the Gate. They had traded, and this was _her_ daughter, never Dante's.

Again, Aideen let out a derisive snort at her own thoughts. She'd told her fathers it was a girl, but according to whom? Her Auntie certainly hadn't been able to tell the baby's gender just yet. It was just over two months along, and even with alchemy that wasn't possible. Dante had been the one who claimed to know, and as with so many things with Dante, when she said that the baby was a girl, Aideen believed her. After all, if Dante was able to do the nearly insurmountable task of ensuring that the baby was conceived—a feat not usually possible to be done on oneself—then it was just as likely that Dante was able to detect that the baby was a girl.

She continued to move down to the bottom floor, still not exactly sure how she was going to manage to see Phillip. She just knew she wanted that closure.

Opening the door at the bottom of the steps, Aideen saw a tall-for-his-age figure seated outside of the morgue. "Alex?" she asked, seeing the blond head pop up, a set of enormous blue eyes looking up at her.

He charged at her with such speed, Aideen instinctively protected her stomach, yet still embraced the eight-year-old.

"Aideen!" he wailed her name before sobbing into her hospital gown. "Father brought us home. He said… he said…" Normally, Aideen would have boosted the boy into his arms, but instead, she moved to one of the chairs and pulled him onto her lap. "Phillip…"

"I know, Alex, I know." She rubbed his back, listening to him as he cried. "Shh." She wrapped her arms around him, rocking him as they sat. She knew well enough that if he was outside, his parents were just beyond the doors with Phillip's body.

"They wouldn't even let me in."

"It's probably better, Alex. It's hard to see something like that."

"But it's not fair!" the boy said. Aideen had to agree.

"I know." They sat like that for some time, Aideen trying to argue with her stomach that it wasn't morning, and it should stay the hell where it was. Unfortunately, it was arguing right back and winning.

"Alex, sweetie, I need to run to the bathroom."

He climbed off of her lap, rubbing his eyes with his shirtsleeve while Aideen ran as quickly as she could to the small bathroom, not making it that far, and having to grab a wastepaper bucket. Throwing up on top of some scrap paper, she felt like she wanted to curl up and die on the floor, not for the first time in the last few months, but for a different reason this time, at least.

"Aideen? Are you sick? You're not going to go like Phillip, are you?"

Aideen shook her head, spitting into the bucket. She wondered if her body was rebelling because Dante had repressed all of the normal reactions, or if it was normal to feel like this so suddenly.

Standing and going to the gross-looking sink, she rinsed out her mouth.

"Please be okay, Aideen."

"I am," she said, kneeling in front of Alex. Once again, she took him into her arms, finding her tears again.

"Aideen?" he said, still crying, clinging to her in his grief.

"I just miss Phillip."

They sat like this for a few moments, his strong and somewhat pudgy arms tightly wound around her neck. She'd always loved the little boy, from the time he was an overzealous toddler to when she'd been dating Phillip and he'd always made sure to give her a hug.

"Miss Mustang?" a man's voice said from above. Aideen's hazel eyes looked up at her ex-boyfriend's father.

"General Armstrong," she said, watching his face, knowing he was aware of exactly who had been housing Dante. Anyone else, finding her with her arms around their remaining son, their eldest dead because of the person who had possessed her, might have looked frightened, angry or protective.

But not the general. Instead, he looked at her concerned.

"We have been worried about you for some time," he said.

She nodded, relinquishing her hold on the boy so he could run to his father. She then went to the wastebasket, noticing her moves were closely watched.

"Aideen?" he said, his voice as warm as possible, given the situation. "Were you sick?"

"I…" she looked at the metal container. "Yes, but I'm not… I'm not ill." She gathered the bucket in her hands to take into the bathroom.

"It would be simple enough to clean up with alchemy," Armstrong said, watching her.

"I'm not really supposed to," she said, moving again to the bathroom where she proceeded to clean out the container the old fashioned way. Because of everything that had been done to both Aideen and most especially the baby, her Auntie had decided that it would be safer not to perform alchemy, for some time. When she came back out, she saw the large man holding his boy in his arms.

"General," Aideen said as she set the metal bin on the floor. "Can I see him?"

"I think so," he said, glancing down at her hand at her stomach. "Are you certain you're well? It isn't…" His voice cracked. "Well, if your stomach is upset… Even with the determination of the Armstrong line, I found it difficult."

"It isn't, Mr. Armstrong," Aideen said, not just yet ready to confess to Phillip's family about the baby. She put her hand on the large arm wrapped around the blond boy. He seemed to understand, either that or was too lost in his own grief to concern himself with Aideen's health any further than he'd already done.

She watched the young child seeking comfort from his father, as really, she should have. Instead, she had withdrawn, giving Dante her opportunity to take over time after time. All the adults thought it was cute how she would glare at anyone who tried to help her. Little did they know that it wasn't her.

She felt so weak, thinking that this boy was capable of going through his own suffering rather than trading off with something inhabiting him. Even as a baby, when she'd cracked her father in the face and hurt her own forehead, she'd willingly made the swap, though she obviously hadn't understood what the kind voice in her head was really offering her.

She moved into the morgue, looking at Rose Armstrong, one of many in the overcrowded room crying over a lost loved one, and without saying a word, Aideen hugged her and held her, while mentally fighting back her old demons.

_"You nearly had my brother killed," Aideen hissed at her own reflection in the mirror. _

"A simple casualty."

"Casualty? He's my brother!" The thirteen-year-old yelled at what appeared to be herself.

"Well, he isn't dead. He's just lost an arm. Stop overreacting."

"I'm going to stop you."

"And how do you plan to do that? You've manages so successfully to defy me up until this point."

Aideen pulled the scissors out of her back pocket and grabbed her ponytail. "You like my hair, don't you? Think it's nice and ladylike?"

"You wouldn't."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do," Aideen said as she chopped off the ponytail with one slice of the large shears. "How's that for ladylike? How's that for too weak to fight?"

"I'm so afraid,"_ Dante's voice was mocking. _"You cut your hair. You certainly showed me." 

Aideen continued to cling to the sobbing woman, listening to the cries of others, others who lost their families because of Dante, because of her. As she held onto Rose, who in her grief seemed to have forgotten the insinuation a few days before that Phillip had raped Aideen, the teen looked at her former boyfriend's face. He looked peaceful, as though in a deep sleep. His normally tanned skin was ashen in death, the brown curls splattered with red.

She could only imagine now what his reaction would have been to the baby, if he ever got over the guilt of how she was conceived. Phillip had always felt things a little too much, fallen a little too hard into his emotions, but his heart and his loyalty were practically unmatched, save possibly for the three men in her own family.

She hated seeing him like this, lifeless, dead. It wasn't fair. That she was given the chance to live, and he was the one laying there in what amounted to a drawer, that all around her, so many others were just the same.

_When she'd first seen the doll, she withdrew into her mind, wanting to confront Dante herself, knowing this left her body without the control of either soul. She'd yelled at the woman, cursed her for having Tucker create those chimeras and for seeming so pleased that he'd used the lifelike doll to train them. The argument hadn't lasted very long between them, consisting of Aideen screaming inside her head at the thing she'd hated so much, Dante seeming to do nothing about it. Then, there'd been that taunting voice. _

"Shame on you for leaving your body unattended." Dante took the forefront this time. "Papa?"

From the darkness of her own mind, Aideen yelled at Dante, yelled to her father to recognize that it wasn't her, but she went unheard.

As though watching a movie of her own life, she felt their body move, wriggling away from her papa's touch, as though sickened by it because Dante was disgusted by it. Dante had even allowed the flower in their hair to fall to the ground unnoticed, except by Aideen.

Aideen watched as Dante interacted with her father and with Frank; she was so cold with them as both men were obviously concerned, trying to prepare her for the sight of the doll in her own likeness. Then she analyzed the thing, poking at the copy in a red coat, even using simple scanning alchemy to determine the thing's components. Even as an orange-haired Dad came through the gathered crowd of people, Dante merely took the opportunity to taunt him and yell at him.

And all the while, Aideen was in her own mind, screaming for them to understand, to see that it wasn't her.

Only one did, maybe not consciously, but he saw just as he had during all of their lessons. He berated Dante, grabbing hold of shoulders and making the woman possessing their body to face him.

"I know you're in shock, but you can't take it out on them."

Aideen could feel Fletcher's hands as they held onto her, them—it was all too confusing trying to think as one and yet never as one—the look in his eyes the same as it had been when he made her meditate. Just as the meditation sessions before, Aideen was able to use the eastern techniques to push Dante back, as though she was nothing more than negative emotion blocking the success of Aideen's alchemy.

But despite the fact that at least this once she had bested Dante, the older soul still kept a close check on Aideen's words. The confession of who Dante was, of the fact that Aideen knew perfectly well why that doll was there came out very differently, but all the while very true.

"Don't I have the right to be angry? This shit keeps happening, and I'm tired of it. I'm just so damned tired of it all." 

She and Rose stood, both crying over Phillip's body. Rose was nearly incomprehensible in her grief, but there were a lot of cries out at the unfairness of it all and a few curses at Dante and the military alike.

When the general once again returned, eyes puffy and cheeks tearstained, he took over comforting his wife and told her it was time to go and signaled to Aideen that she should probably leave.

Aideen did, finding that young Alex was curled up asleep from exhaustion, it seemed. Aideen wanted to do the same, but while emotionally she felt just like the little boy, mentally and physically, she was perfectly alert and awake. She gently ran a hand over the wavy blond hair before moving on to the stairs to go back to her room.

She made the way up each flight, grateful that she was not feeling sick once again or light-headed. That thought, again, brought attention to the fact that the hand not holding the railing was rubbing at her stomach. Really, she wondered, how long would that last? Was it even normal to be so subconsciously aware and protective of the tiny life?

She knew the lightheadedness and the nausea were common, but it was her own behavior that she questioned. After everything she'd been through, Aideen had to wonder with each and every thing she did in concern to the baby if it was normal. After everything she'd been through, it was hard to know if that had affected her behavior, and she didn't really know how much her age had anything to do with it. Maturity wasn't an issue, but experience was something she was sorely lacking.

And what about loving it? Would she? Because, although Aideen wanted the baby to live, even calling it her daughter, she didn't feel fond of the child, didn't feel any attachment to it. Reaching a landing, Aideen paused, leaning against one of the walls. It was strange that she could think of the child as her daughter, because biologically, it was, but never herself as a mother. Would she grow to care about this baby, now only the size of the tip of one of her own fingers? Would she ever see herself as more than an incubator? If something happened to her daughter, would she break down and cry as Rose did?

Deciding those were answers that could only be answered in time, Aideen continued up the final flight of stairs to the fourth floor. It was an odd mix of patients in her wing, all friends and family for security reasons. Well, friends and family save for the very first door, where Aideen's grandfather sat, hovering over Dante.

Aideen wanted to hurt Dante so much and would have given anything to be the one to finally kill her, but Hohenheim needed the woman now trapped in a maimed doll's body. She would be the perfect means to open the Gate one final time before it would be closed forever. Through the tiny window in the door, she saw only the faintest outline of the body incapable of moving. That thought pleased Aideen; there was no hope for Dante to perform a ditch-effort transmutation to put her soul into anyone else as she had before Gluttony completely devoured her.

It also meant that the baby was safe. While Dante was capable of the nearly impossible like transferring her soul into an unborn child and manipulating the fertility of a body that was done only on the technicality that it was not hers, she was not capable of the impossible. Creating a transmutation without movement of some kind was exactly that. A circle needed to be drawn or made, either by a body making contact with itself or babies in connection with their parent, offering power through their constant connection to their parent.

Thinking about all she had suffered, all the country had suffered because of this woman, Aideen still doubted her brother's sincerity about the necessity of this woman.

_Nicholas sat on Aideen's bed after their fathers had left on Auntie's orders. Her twin's coal black eyes looked at her with sympathy, even a bit of pity. "I don't know if there's ever a good time to tell you this when you'll actually believe me, but the Gate crammed a lot of information in my head at the cost of Dante's other leg." Nicholas swung his legs around on the bed, pulling one up toward his chest. Aideen wondered if his movement was conscious on his part or if it was as instinctual as her incessant caresses of her own stomach. "You know, I think the Gate actually likes us, if it's capable of liking. It could have taken mine, but didn't. It even tried to warn in its own way about Dante." _

"Shame it didn't do a little more than tell them I could be a problem." Aideen hung her head.

"It needed Dante to live." Aideen's head snapped up at that. "That's what I needed to tell you. If Dante hadn't done what she did, a small group of people who died over the course of the attacks would have killed so many people, more than even she did. That includes Dad, Papa and me."

He proceeded to describe a very bleak alternative to their world, one where death and persecution were commonplace, where Ishballans and later, all religions and races differing from the "norm" were housed, tortured, experimented upon, and finally slaughtered. "One million dead, Aideen, before this group would be killed. Dante killed a thousand, possibly two if you include the Thules coming through."

They sat in silence for a while, Aideen pulling both her legs to her chest, resting her chin at the tiny v created by her knees. "And you've decided to keep the baby?"

Slightly, Aideen nodded her head, closing her eyes as she did.

"Good, because the Gate didn't warn me about it at all."

"Well, that's a good sign," Aideen said sarcastically.

"Well, it did more than not warn me." He looked uncomfortable. "It showed me how to perform the transferal transmutation. There aren't many alchemists who could do it, only four who could certainly do it properly."

"Dad, Uncle Al, you and I?"

"Yeah." Nicholas's posture then mirrored Aideen, as though trying to protect his own body from his newfound knowledge. "Not that I really want to be pregnant, but I think it was an assurance for you. That baby isn't Dante, and even if you don't or can't carry it, possibly someone else can for you."

"Are you sure it isn't the Gate _'needing'_ someone to carry Dante?"

"It doesn't go that far out of its way for that."

"You sound like you understand it."

Nicholas held out a hand and wobbled it. In other words: "somewhat."

Feeling the mood had thickened the air in the room beyond comfort levels, Aideen kicked her brother's sock-covered foot. "Or maybe it's letting you know that one day you can be a proud mommy yourself."

With a faint smile, Nicholas looked up at her. "Dare you to say that to Dad."

Another room housed Russell Tringham. He seemed to be asleep and alone. Fletcher was probably one of the alchemists working on the reconstruction and recovery along with her Uncle Al.

That Russell was still asleep was probably for the best. She was not quite ready to face Russell awake, knowing that while Dante had done it, Aideen's own hands had killed Wrath. Wringing the instruments of Wrath's death, Aideen moved on, trying not to dwell on it, trying not to remember how hard she'd fought Dante and failed as the ancient alchemist had killed the man.

The next room held Frank Archer, sound asleep, but not alone, as the little homunculus was curled up at his side. Never would she have thought that a homunculus would be a positive thing that came out of all this, but it seemed that Frank and Kain would finally have their daughter. Aideen smiled as she observing the little body that was still incapable of sleep attempting to simulate it as it lay next to the wounded colonel. The two men would take care of the child. With the love those two men would pour onto her, there was little doubt that Tucker's incarnation would certainly gain a soul as well as a family.

And finally, before going through the silver doors where her father's room was, Aideen glanced in at her brother, who in typical Nicholas fashion had taken over the entire hospital bed now that he wasn't sharing it.

Moving on to the swinging silver doors, she came to her father's room. Her dad was on the bed, deeply sound in sleep. She was certain of that because next to him, her papa was crying. It wasn't loud, but under normal circumstances, she knew her younger father would have heard him.

Quietly as she could, Aideen entered the room. Her dad slept on, but her papa stopped crying and looked up at her.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he said, standing.

"I can't sleep," she answered, looking over at her dad, wincing with guilt and pity at his misshapen form beneath the white fabric. He remained asleep, meaning that her dad was being medicated into this restful state. "Sit back down. It's late and you have to be tired."

"And what about you and the…" His voice trailed off as he looked at her abdomen.

"Just sit," she said, a bit surprised when he did. Though the armchair he was in looked somewhat uncomfortable, it was the only one in the room, so she sat at his feet. She felt like a child doing it, but she laid her head against his knee. She remembered doing this when she'd been little, before Dante regularly took control. She remembered how distinct each of her fathers would smell, her dad metallic and of oil, her papa of musk and smoke. It was comforting like this, and although part of her was furious at them both, when she felt her papa's hand carding through her hair, she felt like she might cry again out of relief.

She was alive, and despite her best efforts to make it easier for them to kill Dante, her family didn't hate her.

"You know how important you are to us, don't you?" her papa said. "You know that we love you. That I love you?"

Aideen only nodded, the slow tears falling at her father's words.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63 **

_Healing Comfort _

One Month Later 

"You're a damned slave driver!" Ed said as Roy hauled him up the stairs.

"I'm a furher and a military man. What do you expect?"

"Bastard!"

"Stop whining Ed. Winry's going to install the automail ports in a few days. When you get your left leg back, do you really want your right one to be too weak to hold you?"

Ed glared at Roy, who only met the glare with a steady gaze. That irritated the hell out of the young alchemist. He was so calm; nothing seemed to faze him.

"Roy," Ed said as they reached the last few steps, "it is six in the morning. It is too damned early to be doing this." Ed leaned against his husband, arm wrapped tightly around the older man's waist as he pulled himself up on another step. "We could just as well do this after you get back from the office."

"Are you telling me you can't handle your therapy?" Roy said, his tone mocking. "Am I going to have to deal with you crying, 'Oh, it hurts so bad! Stop!'" The tone in Roy's voice was irritating, but the exaggerated impression flat out pissed him off.

"You're a bastard," Ed growled.

"So you've told me every year of our marriage and quite a few before. Did you really think that would change just because you've managed to lose some limbs?"

Ed glared at him. In the back of the younger man's mind was a voice reminding him that if Roy had treated him any other way, Ed would have taken it as an insult and been revolted by the sign of pity. The voice told Ed that his husband really did care about him and was doing the best possible thing by goading him up the stairs, where he was now. It chided him for getting angry with the silver-haired man who did look very nice in his green pajamas.

Problem was, Ed wasn't listening.

"Listen, you son of a bitch, I'm trying. It's my leg and if I want to take a day off because I feel like shit, I will." Ed was seething and hobbling back against the wall to pull away from him. "I don't even know if I'm going to get my leg back for sure, and it's almost certain the arm's gone for good, so if I want to wallow, I will."

Roy pressed against Ed at the wall and held tightly to his face. "The hell you will, Ed," Roy said.

"You don't know what it is to lose something for good," Ed said, wishing that in his anger tears weren't springing to his eyes.

"Look me in the eyes and repeat that, Ed," Roy said. "Or have you forgotten that the left one can't do a thing more than move? And you know that when I got it, you didn't let me mope about it or my face, no matter how much I wanted to."

"Then you should know that this is natural!" Ed yelled at him. "Or is this revenge?"

"And you should know that I'm not going to let you waste away because of this." Roy's tone was lower, kinder this time. And Ed waited for it, the obligatory kiss to his crown of blond hair, just as Roy had done daily since the attack.

Instead, the dark-eyed man devoured Ed's lips, taking full advantage of the fact that the shorter alchemist had been prepared to offer another argument, immediately plunging his tongue deep into Ed's parted mouth. Roy's left hand found its way to Ed's hair, twisting itself inside and mashing them together. His right wound itself tightly around the small waist, either out of passion or the desire for Ed to remain standing—the younger alchemist honestly didn't know or care. Trusting that his fuhrer wouldn't drop him, Ed clung to the arm wrapped around him, his hand grasping at the green material.

The kiss was bruising and forceful, so different from what Ed had experienced from the older man over the last month. Though, initially, the small caresses and chaste kisses had been all Ed could handle, for some time now, he'd been wanting some sign that his husband still—he couldn't say "found him attractive" because he seriously doubted that was possible as half a person—wanted him.

"Can you two get a room and please keep it down?" Nicholas asked as he exited his bedroom, his thick hair sticking in strange directions, eyes still foggy from sleep. He looked barely conscious as he scratched his thigh and then straightened a self-made cotton shirt baring the phrase "The chemicals that make up the human body cost a few cenz." Lately, as though to irritate his two fathers—and occasionally entertain them—the teen had taken to creating and then sleeping in the obnoxious undershirts. This was a new one.

"What does the back of that dreadful thing say?" Roy asked, arms still securely wrapped around Ed, though in a somewhat less intimate way.

Nicholas looked at Roy blankly for a moment, then down at his shirt as though piecing together what is father was asking. With an "oh" expression on his face, he turned around.

"But my body's priceless," Ed read aloud. Both fathers groaned, but weren't complaining as long as their son agreed not to wear the things in public. Well, that and make sure they weren't too vulgar, like the one that had two arrows on it, one pointing to Nicholas reading "the alchemist" and another pointing down reading "the legend." Roy had incinerated that one practically before Nicholas had it off his back.

The teen turned back around and looked his parents, eyes less sleep-filled and glinting slightly mischievously.

"He's your son," Ed said to Roy. I take no claim for him."

Roy rolled his eyes at the smaller man and then looked over to Nicholas. "What are you doing up?"

"Well," the blond teen said. "The two of you were a little loud. Woke me up." He yawned. "But I figure if you two woke me up, Aideen's probably up too."

It also meant that if Aideen was awake, she likely had been forced to run to the bathroom, as she had the tendency to do within a minute or two of waking.

"Listen, I'm going to go in and see what I can do to ease her morning sickness, then once I'm a little more awake, I'll work with you, Dad."

"I'm working with your Auntie. I'll be fine."

"You have two people who can help heal your nerves and I'm more powerful," Nicholas said, matter-of-factly. "You know, with patients like you and Aideen, I'm not surprised I don't want to go into medicine."

Nicholas opened the door to Aideen's bedroom. Ed looked up at Roy, who was gesturing toward the door to silently ask the younger father to check on her. Ed answered with a quick nod and the two slowly made their way through the door. Though it was a bit of a walk still, the sound of the twins bickering from the bathroom was very clear from the doorway.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm making friends with the cold tile and toilet, how do you think I'm doing?" Aideen snapped back. Ed knew it was the hormones, but the fact that his daughter was still getting violently ill each morning made him wish he could take it all away from her. Hell, without Roy's help he couldn't even manage to get up the stairs form his new bedroom in the library to even hold her hair back, as he'd done when she was little.

Ed could see the glow of the transmutation as Roy guided him over to the desk chair near Aideen's unmade bed. Glancing over at the strewn covers, it was obvious just how sick the teen had been feeling. Whether it was a habit of her own or one she'd learned from Dante, Aideen was a near perfectionist and a bit of a neat freak. He glanced over the desktop, which still had numerous alchemy books and her self-created transmutation circles. But for once, he saw there were also pieces of sheet music, and the guitar purchased by Fletcher over a year ago leaned against the side of the white desk.

Ed could hear Aideen moving in the next room, feeling somewhat sick. It was still a struggle each time he looked at his own daughter's face just to convince himself that she wasn't the one who tortured him. He could feel Roy's hand at his right shoulder both helping to support him physically and emotionally. Ed honestly never knew whether to be grateful that his husband understood him well enough to know when to make gestures like this, or to be furious that he had to at all. Ed didn't want to be some headcase who needed his husband to hold his hand just to lay eyes on their own daughter. He just wanted those feelings to stop.

"Feel better?" Nicholas asked from within the bathroom.

"Much. Thank you."

Ed looked up at Roy. "You're the son and brother of doctors, who obviously knows a little about medical alchemy. Want to explain why the hell you didn't do that for me?"

"Because I still haven't gotten that transmutation right, first. And second, we didn't know how safe anything would be when you were at that stage."

"I still don't know why you insist on wearing those shirts," Aideen said to Nicholas, her tone so adult, so much like the man holding onto Ed. "We are the only ones here to see them."

There was the sound of her brushing her teeth as Nicholas came back into the bedroom, straightening his hair and a few of the more rebellious locks determined to stick up despite his best efforts.

"I can't wait to dive into that cake Mrs. Havoc sent over yesterday. You still going to yell at me about too much icing?" Nicholas teased, stretching his mismatched arms over his head.

"No, because you and your sister are going out and you aren't my problem," Ed answered back.

"Which means you aren't allowed enough cake to get a sugar high," Aideen said, walking out of the bathroom, still looking a bit green from being so recently sick, but a rosier color to her cheeks than if her brother hadn't performed the transmutation. She walked over to Roy, squeezing his hand. "Morning, Papa." She then leaned down to Ed to hug him, forcing her father to struggle against his instinct to flinch at her approach. Aideen hugged him quickly, a flash of guilt on her face. "Morning, Dad."

"Good morning, sweetie."

"Well, since we're all up now," Roy said. "Why don't we head downstairs for breakfast?" Aideen looked at him warily. "No sausage, I promise." The teen looked relieved, having discovered last week that the smell of sausage cooking brought back her nausea, regardless of her brother's alchemy.

Roy helped Ed stand and let the twins get dressed while the two made the slow walk down the stairs. "First, we need to get your chair from the library," Roy said, guiding Ed into the room, which they'd converted into a bedroom while the blond recovered. "So, do you notice anything different?" Roy asked.

Ed scanned the walls and the books. "Am I supposed to?" he asked as he sat down in unfortunately familiar wheelchair.

Roy guided him to the wall where numerous candid photos of the family hung. Ed saw the group shot of himself at fifteen along with Riza and Maes, he saw the family photo that Nicholas's impish behavior had ruined, one of Raine holding a very young Roy in a headlock. Then he spotted it. One of his mother and father, caught off guard while holding him as a baby.

"That's the picture my father gave us before he left."

Roy nodded. "I had the photo studio blow it up. There are a couple of things in it you couldn't see at the small size."

"How'd you get it in here?"

"Al picked it up from the studio last night, along with his copy. Asked me to distract you this morning so he could hang it." He pulled it down off the wall, pointing to Hohenheim's brown vest. "You'd just spit up on him. And if you look here," He ran a finger over Ed's mother's somewhat rounded stomach. "it looks as though Al was in the photo as well."

Roy continued to hold the picture as Ed traced over his parents' outlines. Against his better judgment, Ed realized his resentment over his father was long gone. It was hard to hold onto it after the man had willingly gone through the Gate for Ed and his family's sake twice.

_Though he hadn't expected himself to allow it, Ed found himself being hugged by his father, and more surprisingly, he was hugging right back. "Be careful, and just know that things will turn out the way they should in the end," his father said to him. "It's equivalent exchange, Ed. You've suffered a lot because of alchemy. It's certain to give you something back." _

Hohenheim moved down the small group waiting for him in the otherwise deserted area of the underground city, but not before handing a small photo to Ed, saying, "I think this will do you and your brother more good than me."

Riza had walked beside him, taking Ed's hand briefly. "You've done the best job you possibly could with your twins. Just take good care of them and take care of him." She gestured to Roy.

After their goodbyes were said, Riza and Hohenheim moved toward the transmutation circle, where Dante's motionless body lay. When he saw his father pull out a knife, Ed didn't look away, couldn't. He had to watch as Dante died, even if he wasn't the one who did it. From the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but see the mixed emotions across his daughter's face. Then, as the transmutation circle glowed and engulfed him, for the first time since he was a tiny child, Ed found himself crying, missing his father.

**_Scotland_**

Hohenheim sat discussing with Roy some of the mistakes that the younger man was making in the operations of his business. All the while, he kept a wary eye on the long-haired blond practicing putting on a miniaturized golf course in the back yard.

"We are in war times, Roy, and you have to make exceptions for that," Hohenheim chided, having decided ages ago that he much preferred his real son-in-law to his Earth copy.

"Papap," a little voice said before pouncing on top of the older man's lap. "Come play with me. Play with Unca William."

"You want to play golf, do you?" Hohenheim asked little Eddie as he looked up at Noa. She patted her son on the head, saying nothing as a smile remained on her lips.

"Golf!" Eddie yelled out.

There was a loud laugh as the blond walked up to Hohenheim and his adopted grandson. "I can't believe a little one like you can hold one of those big clubs."

"Can too!" Eddie stated. "I show you."

"Father?" the blond asked Hohenheim. "Do you want to come with us? I'm still trying to learn this game. I know I don't remember much, but I am certain I didn't play this before."

"I show. I real good, Unca William!"

"I bet you are, runt." With that, the man who appeared to be no more than eighteen scooped little Eddie into his arms, making entertaining faces at the toddler as they walked out into the yard, the dark-haired little boy excited that he was getting to play with the teenagers.

"You trust him with your son?" Hohenheim asked Noa.

"I've looked into that young man's mind. There is no malice, not bitterness." She patted Hohenheim on the shoulder, adding with emphasis. "No envy."

Hohenheim met the woman's brown eyes. "It is simply that I know what he was."

"And you are the only one. Not even William remembers his time as Envy."

Hohenheim watched the young man who called him father far more willingly that he ever had as a homunculus. Hohenheim had to believe that the Gate had decided this was the easiest way to ensure that it was not opened again. Without Envy, it would be impossible for it to open for any long period of time. And, as Riza, Hohenheim and the rest of the captured alchemists had destroyed the cavern with the Thules inside, it wasn't likely that anyone was going to mange to replicate their research or success.

Hohenheim highly doubted this was a reward to either himself or Envy, as he felt certain he didn't deserve it. Though he could dismiss a lot of what Envy did as not knowing better or a failure on his own part, Hohenheim still felt at a loss to explain this through equivalent exchange.

All he received in response to his thoughts a reassuring pat to his shoulder.

_Hohenheim and Riza pulled on gas masks the moment the location-specific transmutation landed them at the floor of the cavern. They would have had the things on sooner, but considering what had happened to the Thules upon crossing through the Gate, the two didn't want to chance somehow melding with the bits of rubber and metal. _

The instant they had the masks on—a process that took no more than a second—Hohenheim and the woman at his side lit and tossed two smoke bombs at the gathered Thules, watching as the cavern filled with a green haze that would render everyone who inhaled it unconscious.

They didn't have long, only an hour, to get the Thules sorted from the alchemists.

The most troubling person was the young blond man they found on the floor near their own feet when they landed in the cavern. Riza was first to turn his body over, crying out the moment she saw the resemblance.

"Hohenheim," she said, her voice muffled by the sound of the gas mask, "he looks like you."

The older man knelt down beside the body, seeing instantly the face that he'd nearly forgotten about after almost 400 years. He then, looked up at the ceiling, finding that the serpent who'd been held in a circular position was now gone.

"Do you know him?" Riza asked him.

There was a part of Hohenheim that wanted to answer truthfully than, no, he really didn't know his son well at all. There was a part of him that wanted to eliminate what had been a threat to his youngest two children, that had been a threat to his grandchildren. But this face, it wasn't that homunculus with the anger against him. It was his son, sound asleep as Hohenheim remembered before the teenager had gotten deathly ill.

"We may need to restrain him. But he isn't a Thule," Hohenheim said, knowing that he didn't have time to delay dealing with the Thules with questions as to why the Gate would give him back his eldest son.

Though the thought of killing the Thules instantly came to mind, it was a risk as the gas would fade, the added noise of that act might rouse the other sleeping society members. Instead, they found ways to bind the men and women, Hohenheim taking full advantage of the alchemic power within the cavern as he used the very stone it was carved out of to restrain the Thules and their alchemist convert, Zolf Kimblee, and the unconscious body of Envy. From there, both he and Riza made their way into the tunnels leading from the cavern chamber, finding a few spare Thules there in varying states of consciousness.

As the hour's time limit neared on the gas, Hohenheim set to waking some of the alchemists, such as Mustang and his two sons along with the two American versions of the Tringham brothers, Phillip and his step-father. It was strange to think that this brave young Scot was alive when his equally courageous counterpart had died in Amestris.

As the other alchemists rallied, they helped Hohenheim and Riza restrain the remaining Thules as best they could in their still-drugged state. Ultimately, it fell on the eldest Tringham to haul Envy's body from the cave and Hohenheim to fabricate a history for the young man, who woke up while being carried from the cave. Envy, now William, remembered nothing. All Hohenheim knew was he now had a son whose mind was a clean slate and who, in this form, couldn't be used to open the Gate ever again.

The alchemists had just gotten out of the cavern when a few well-placed and perfectly timed bombs later brought the cavern several miles outside of Munich crumbling onto itself.

Some of the alchemists had returned home. The former bishop who'd sided with the Thules died along with them. The rest joined Hohenheim in Scotland to help with the war effort against Germany. William roused with no memory of any of his past, and he was now become a full-fledged member of Noa's family as well as Hohenheim's.

"Aiden!" Riza's voice cried from over the wall that adjoined the two yards. "Mail." Enthusiastically, the dark-haired teen ran to the wall to retrieve the letter.

"What odds do you think it is Fletcher Tringham writing him again?" Roy said, shaking his head.

Hohenheim smiled, wondering if the relationship between Aiden and Fletcher would ever mirror the one of their counterparts, or if it would end as a good friendship.

"So what does he say?" Nicholas shouted over at Aiden.

"He's been accepted into basic training. He's going to be a part of the British navy and Russell is going to drive the ambulances."

"They will be a fine addition to the military," Roy said to his smiling but obviously nervous son.

For a while, the teens continued their small game of golf, Roy and Hohenheim continuing their conversation. All the while, Hohenheim watched William teaching the dark-haired toddler how to putt. For the first time in his memory, the elder alchemist felt the teen looked at peace with himself, even more so than he'd been before Hohenheim had tried to bring him back.

And though he wanted desperately to be with his family in Amestris, Hohenheim felt he might be able to live out his life this way quite happily.

"Father, come show Eddie that trick you taught me yesterday. I haven't quite mastered it yet."

And with that, Hohenheim rose to join his somewhat new son and adopted grandson trying not to contemplate why the Gate felt he was worthy of this little bit of contentment and simply enjoy it.

**_Amestris_**

Frank stepped out of Nina's bedroom, face covered in robin's egg blue dots. There was a faint giggling from the sofa, which drew the man to his now-adopted daughter.

"You think this is funny?

The young girl nodded, violet eyes twinkling as she continued to laugh.

"Oh, come on, Frank," Kain said, stepping out of the room, spotless, "it's good to see you in blue again, now that you've retired." Frank had retired to stay home and care for Nina, and he had to wonder how long these jokes at his expense would last.

Frank sat at Nina's feet, rubbing her calf as he did. "How are you feeling today?"

She shrugged. "Achey." From what Raine could tell, the girl was stuck in limbo between the age of the girl she was created to resemble and the age the doll seemed to be. It was why she appeared six when Nina had died around the age of four, and why her muscles, bones, tendons were all trying to catch up to the seemingly ten-year-old doll.

"But, I fell asleep while you were working on that room, and I saw pictures. I think it was a dream."

"That's wonderful," Kain said, brushing aside her brown bangs and rubbing her cheek.

"It wasn't anything special. I was just in class with Mr. Mustang. But I knew I wasn't really there because I didn't have lessons today."

Both men shook their heads in response to her final statement. Though, they both were aware that if Nina was dreaming, it was a sign that she was headed in the same direction as Wrath and could very well be developing a soul of her own. This was Nicholas's day off from teaching Nina, a job he'd taken not long after passing out of school. With situations being what they were at home, and the fact that he had long ago surpassed what could be taught at the basic grade school, Nicholas had taken his exam to be finished with his schooling. To keep himself busy, as though he didn't already have enough with his still-recovering sister and father, Nicholas had decided to tutor Nina to catch her up on her school work, not to mention basic interaction. The two fathers hoped that this would mean within a year or so, she would be able to relate to other children her age, at least without too many of her differences being noticeable.

And honestly, the young Mustang male seemed grateful for the escape that teaching Nina gave him. There was more going on with Aideen's recovery from Dante, and they were all sure of it, but Frank suspected it was something that the family would make known when the timing was better.

"Well," Frank said, "I hope you're happy with this color because I feel certain I'm going to be wearing it for a week."

Again, Nina laughed at him.

"Do you need anything?" Kain asked her.

She shrugged. "I think I could eat."

That meant she was hungry but still not certain of the new feeling of hunger. Kain patted her brown head and walked out into the kitchen while Frank rubbed a hand over the tiny one resting on the sofa.

"You might want to sit up if you're going to eat."

Nina sat, scooting herself to Frank's side. "I was thinking."

"Oh?" Frank asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

"About what to call you. I don't like calling you Frank and Kain." She looked up at him, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Could it be Father and Daddy? Do you mind Father?"

Frank felt his chest clenching, taking the little girl into his arms. "Not at all. I wouldn't mind that at all."

"You're crying," she said, pulling away from his embrace. "You hate me calling you Father."

"I promise you, Nina. I'm crying because I'm happy."

Nina looked at him, head tilted to the side. "Humans are funny."

Frank couldn't agree more, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that Nina, herself, was becoming more like one every day.

Aideen was roaming in the little coffee shop bookstore, cup of hot cocoa in her hands, perusing the spines of the books on the shelves. She felt at a loss now that she'd wandered outside of the alchemy section.

"Oh, my, Aideen Mustang looking at a novel and wearing jeans and a green shirt. The world's surely at an end." The voice was light and teasing. She turned to find Fletcher smiling at her warmly.

"Oh," Aideen said, hating that she felt warmth to her face, "Hi, Fletcher." Trying to hide her face, she took a drink of the cocoa, wishing she could curl up and die. Like everyone else, Fletcher didn't know she was pregnant, and that only added to the amount of shame and embarrassment she felt at being in his presence.

"So, how are you doing?" Aideen only slightly noticed the discomfort in his mannerisms, as she was trying to consider how to answer such a loaded question without giving away the truth. After all, her thoughts lately seemed all-consumed by the impending responsibility and tiny life currently inside her. At least, those thoughts that didn't somehow drift to Dante.

"Okay." There was awkward silence. "What are you doing here?"

"My apartment's upstairs," he answered, an amused smile on his face. Inwardly, Aideen cursed herself for forgetting such a simple thing. She twisted her hands around the mug, glancing down at the floor more so than looking him in his blue-tinted green eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Fletcher said, gesturing to the books.

"I don't know," Aideen admitted. "I've never really gotten to, you know?" That sounded like a horribly stupid summation of what had happened. It had been so much easier to sound confident when she'd been certain she would die any time. Now that she had a lifetime to live with her actions, Aideen became much less sure of herself around the older man.

"Hmm," was his only answer as he nodded. "I'm guessing you want an escape? Do you want action, fantasy, mystery, romance—"

"Romance," Aideen answered much too quickly. Again, her embarrassment grew and her grip on her mug of cocoa slipped. The thing fell to the floor, cracking, sending the liquid chocolate across the tiled floor. None of it hit either alchemist, as they both moved away from the spilled substance fast enough, but unexpectedly and humiliatingly, Aideen found tears coming to her eyes.

"Aideen? Did you get splashed? Are you okay?" Fletcher asked, checking the front of her shirt and her pants.

Aideen wanted to answer coherently, but unfortunately, she found herself sobbing too hard to manage it. Two strong, wiry arms wrapped around Aideen's shoulders, as she continued to cry into Fletcher's chest.

"Aideen?"

"I'm sorry. It's the hormones." And then, the words that had come out of her mouth hit her. "Oh, damn it! I wasn't— I wasn't supposed to say… Oh, shit."

Aideen felt the older man's hand rubbing the hair from her face. "Aideen, are you…"

She looked down, unable to meet his eyes, just waiting for him to decide that he hated her. "Yeah," she said quietly. "We're trying not to tell anyone. The newspapers would have a field day. Anything important with the reconstruction would be pushed back to report on me."

"And I'm sure you aren't ready to deal with it yet." That hadn't been the words she'd expected to come from his mouth, and she certainly hadn't expected one hand to move to her head, the other beginning to rub soothing circles on her back. For the first time outside of her talks with her Uncle Al—the only person knowledgeable about the entire situation with the kind of understanding that seemed to do her some good—Aideen cried for herself. "Let it out," he said softly, his slightly unshaven cheek resting on her head.

"I heard a crash, and I—" Nicholas's voice stopped abruptly. "What happened?"

"She dropped her drink," Fletcher said. "Can you fix it, Nicholas? There's a back room here the owner lets me use when I need to escape Russell when he's in a mood. I'm going to take Aideen there, let her get this out of her system in private."

She felt herself being guided through the aisles, through a small door at the rear of the store's second floor. There was a scattering of old furniture and boxes that Aideen could see through her tear-clouded eyes. "This is the most comfortable one, I think," he said, as he guided her to a worn red chair, taking the hard wooden one beside it. "You've been keeping this all from everyone for a month?" he asked, taking her hand and rubbing it. In the back of her mind, there was the nagging voice of Dante, long gone physically, but sometimes, just as much there as if she wasn't. This man had rejected her that night. Why was he being so nice to her now?

"You didn't need this on top of everything else," he said, holding her hand in both his own, the warm, callused hands rubbing over her smooth ones. And again, the warmth of his words made Aideen break down, shuddering with her tears as Fletcher moved from his seat to kneel in front of her, pulling her once again into his arms.

She didn't understand why, after everything she'd been through, she felt so capable of crying like this in front of the older man, but at the moment, all she could do was take in the sensation of being held, soothed. For the first time, she really felt comforted in someone else's words.

"It will all be okay in the end, Aideen. I promise you."

The logical part of her mind wanted to tell her to argue with him, to tell him not to make promises he couldn't keep. The rest of her said to believe him.

Roy scooped Ed into his arms, despite the protests of the petit man. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Taking you upstairs. I've dealt with the issues at the office until tonight, though I'll have to go back out after ten, and I want to spend the time I have with you."

"And you shouldn't be carrying me. If you had a bad back when you were thirty, what the hell do you think it'll be like now that you're pushing fifty?"

"First of all, you're quite light," Roy said, refusing to add the words "like this" to his sentence, though they hung there unsaid all the same. "Second of all, I'm not 'pushing fifty.' I just barely turned forty-seven."

Roy made progress up the stairs, seeing Ed's reluctance, but hating that there seemed no fight in the blond. It was true that Ed might never regain his arm or leg, but it was the spark in the gold eyes he'd seen this morning and seen so rarely in the last month that Roy refused to see die. The older man knew Ed was disgusted with his body as it was now, with no ports, no automail. He hadn't wanted to go through this process all over again, but if he had to once again prove to Ed that _he_ didn't find it disgusting, Roy would do it.

Roy pushed the door to their bedroom open with his foot, making his way to the bed that he'd missed sharing with Ed these last four weeks. If Roy wasn't falling asleep in the chair at Ed's bedside, he'd been forced to once again sleep alone in a bed that seemed so empty and cold without his husband in it.

Carefully laying the smaller body down on top of the gray and black comforter, Roy caressed the young man's face and kissed him. As soon as he released the younger man from what he felt was a tender and loving sign of his intentions, Roy watched the blond head turn away from him.

"Are you really that hard-up for sex, Roy?" Ed was blinking far too much, obviously holding back tears. "You can't really mean to do this with me, with a cripple."

Without thinking, Roy slammed his hand down on the bedside table. He hurt but didn't break his hand in the process, though he did knock off the metal lamp, hearing the pop of the shattered lightbulb. "Damn you Ed! I know you want to draw into yourself, and I know you can't let the twins see it, but damn it, I'm tired of watching you descend into…" He gestured with his hand. "this."

"Well, I didn't choose this." Ed imitated the gesture with his left hand.

"I'm not talking about the arm and leg, Ed. I'm talking about you thinking that every time I show you I love you, you look so damned surprised. One month I've gone without sex. I'd go without it forever if it wasn't with you. I don't want just a quick screw with some pretty thing."

"No, you want to go home and bang your deformed husband."

How had he missed how dark Ed's mind had gotten? With all of the reconstruction efforts, it was true that Roy hadn't gotten to be there as much as he wanted, but when he saw Ed, he saw that carefully crafted version of the man, very rarely this vulnerable, self-deprecating side. Ed was more than willing to show the guilt for everything that had gone on, a trait that while Roy felt strongly in himself seemed doubly compounded in their daughter, despite appearances. But this wasn't about guilt. This was a side of Ed that probably made the guilt worse. This was the side that regretted his loss more than he felt he deserved to do.

"I want to go home and make love, if he's ready, to a wonderful blond, who is no less handsome, no less remarkable because he managed to withstand tortures that no one else I've ever known could survive."

Ed looked up at him in disbelief and surprise. "Bullshit." Roy started to argue, but was cut off. "No, Roy. If you thought I was all of those things, then why the hell have I seen no passion, no anything from you until today? Just those kisses on the head, like I was your baby brother, not your damned husband."

Roy stared at Ed for a minute, trying to think the reasons for his own actions, then trying to put that into words. "Maybe I got a shock, Ed. These last few years, you've seemed so damned indestructible, and for the first time since you were a teenager, you reminded me that you aren't."

"Well, I won't break, so stop treating me like it."

"Then stop acting like your life is over or worthless because of what happened." Roy laid on his side facing Ed's right shoulder, watching as the younger man flinched at his touch over the area where automail had once met flesh. Roy had hated to admit how much he'd learned to love Ed's automail. Hell, he'd developed a bit of a metal fetish thanks to it, but it had been a truly amazing thing for the younger man to lose. It had protected and defended, had given Ed the ability to once again walk and move on his own. How many times had it encircled Roy's neck or his waist, bruised his hips, scratched at his scalp, caressed his cheek. The loss of the automail was a loss, no denying it.

His hand moved to the buttons that ran down the front of Ed's soft shirt. "Look at me," he said when the blond turned away. Roy pulled away the shirt, pushing it over the expanse of skin that was slowly losing its tan. He didn't remove the bandages covering the healing flesh beneath at the shoulder. He slowly straddled the smaller waist, looking down on Ed once again, kissing a trail down the center of the chest. "I love you, Edward Elric."

He nibbled at the warm, salty skin at Ed's neck, then proceeded to lick up to his ear, positioning his own neck in such a way that Ed could attack Roy's own pale skin. He could feel a callused hand moving to the back of his neck, pulling him down. Roy could hardly help it as his now-injured hand skimmed its way down to the light pants that Ed was wearing, teasing beneath the waistband.

"Oh, shit, Roy," Ed said, the spark, along with a healthy amount of lust back in his eyes. "Why the hell did you wait this long?"

"Doctor's orders. Didn't want to overtax you."

Ed began fumbling with Roy's shirt, trying to unbutton the numerous tiny buttons single handedly. "Remind me to shoot your sister." Roy removed his hand that had been untying the drawstring waistband to help the blond, all the while bracing his weight on the other arm. Enough of the buttons undone to ease it over his head, Roy ripped the shirt off, moving back to Ed's waistband, finding it more difficult to untie the tight knot with only his left hand than Ed seemed to be finding unfastening Roy's fly.

The older man nearly lost himself in pleasure as Ed's hand easily slipped inside of his boxers, the half-hard staff below him standing to full attention within the loose cotton pants.

"Hurry up, damn it!" Ed said, just as demanding as ever, forgetting for a moment, apparently, that pulling off the pants would reveal the absent leg.

Finally, Roy finished, pulling the string apart and jerking the pants off his husband quickly, doing his best not to flinch when he saw the stump that had once been a strong steel leg. It was bandaged as the shoulder was, but Roy focused his attention north of the missing limb, grabbing hold and earning a gasp for his efforts. With a smirk, Roy moved upwards on Ed's body, wrapping his hand around both their hardened erections. Ed's joined him shortly after that. It had been so long, and things had been so heated, it didn't take long before both were grinding against one another, sweat gathering and pouring from their bodies.

Roy could feel Ed's body tightening, his own responding in kind as they ground against one another. "Shit, shit! Roy!" And with that Ed was shooting at a force that surprised even the subject of the blond's shouting. Watching Ed's face lost in sensation, his back arched, his hand trying to remember to continue pumping quickly drug Roy over the edge as well, screaming Ed's name, coming all over them both.

When al was over and they laid side-by-side, Ed nuzzled his sweaty head of hair against Roy's shoulder, again, making Roy feel certain the younger man was part cat. "I love you, too, Roy." He chuckled, voice raspy from their previous activities. "Thanks for getting me out of my funk, and doing it so inventively."

Roy smirked before kissing Ed tenderly on the lips. "Any time."

Kneeling in front of Wrath's grave, Russell continued to cry. He knew the man was dead; he knew that Nina now had Wrath's eyes. But for Russell, there was no closure, despite the respectful funeral or the tombstone erected over an empty grave. He cried, trying to remember the words that Nina had passed on to him. Wrath would be waiting for him when his time came, and he loved him. He also remembered that Wrath harbored no resentment toward Aideen mustang, much as Russell himself wanted to. All he knew was that if he didn't soon make peace with himself and with Wrath's death, he would soon waste away to nothing.

Perhaps the first step was to make peace with Aideen. He sighed to himself. It wasn't going to happen today, but he would do his best to make a conscious effort. He stood, still careful not to use his recovering arm to help himself get upright. With the sleeve of his shirt, Russell wiped his eyes and made his way out of the cemetery.


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64 **

**_Improving Relations _**

****

**_Three months later_**

Roy held Ed's hand as they stood—yes, Ed stood with a mostly functioning automail leg—in the room with Aideen, watching as Raine squeezed a tube of gel on their daughter's pale, swollen stomach. Aideen shivered at the sensation.

"Cold, isn't it?" Ed asked, a knowing smile on his face.

"Very," she answered. "I know every time it's going to be. It still doesn't help."

"Well," Raine said, gently rubbing Aideen's arm, "let's see if the little one will be more cooperative today."

Roy smiled despite himself. As though the baby—his granddaughter—was being purposely stubborn, the last sonogram had revealed nothing but her body tightly curled onto itself, her back facing the awaiting observers. Really, Roy knew the little girl would be named after her father and uncle, but with the way she seemed to be rebelling against her mother and her family from inside the womb, he wondered if she should have been Edwarda.

"Ready Aideen?" Raine asked the girl.

"I think so," she said. Raine began moving the wand over Aideen's stomach, spreading the gel in a thin layer. Roy hated the idea of his little girl pregnant, especially since her mood swings seemed to be worse than Ed's had been, morning sickness was still an occasional occurrence, usually brought on by some foods that made her completely nauseous, and she had to take iron, as she was becoming somewhat anemic.

The screen behind her began displaying a strange blueish white image on its black background. Squeezing Ed's hand, Roy remembered when it had been his husband on the table. Apparently, so did Ed, as he moved his hand from Roy's and slid it behind the older man's back. Roy, in turn, wrapped his own arm around to Ed's side, improving much more at not to react to the noticeable absence of the right arm. The nerves never healed enough to accommodate the replacement of Ed's automail.

"Ah, there we have her," Raine said, pointing to the little knotted looking body on the screen. "She's a bit small for her age, but we know she's healthy."

As though moths drawn to the faint glowing light from the monitor, Roy and Ed came closer, Roy tracing over the small body with his finger, Ed looking on in awe, then both moving to hold their daughter's hand and arm.

"When you say small, does that mean anything about her health?" Ed asked, and it was obviously a question Aideen had on her mind as well.

"Not any more than it means you're unhealthy because you're a shrimp, Baby."

"Who you calling a shrimp?" Ed asked, eyes darkening, though there was a slightly different tone in his voice. Roy suspected it was not being called a shrimp himself that Ed was getting defensive about.

"Relax, Ed. If she's short, so be it. You two will have plenty in common," Roy said, earning a hard pinch to his side, at the lovehandle he wished he didn't have.

"You're an ass."

"I thought I was a bastard." Roy turned to see Ed smirking at him. To wipe that expression off his face, Roy bent down and placed a quick peck to the smaller man's lips.

"I swear, your parents are the only ones who can make bickering and cursing one another lovey-dovey," Raine said, to which Aideen laughed. Roy couldn't even describe how good it was to hear her laugh, for more than just the sheer lack of that laugh for so long. The fact was that Aideen's laugh was practically infectious if she found something especially funny, not to mention how easily it filled a room.

Then, the focus turned once again to the tiny thing on the screen. "I just can't quite picture you calling this little one Phillis," Raine said.

"Nikki,' Aideen corrected. "Dad was playing around with names to call her. Nikki kind of stuck."

"It was less of a mouthful," Ed explained. "I mean, I don't go by Edward very much, and I couldn't call my own granddaughter Phil."

Roy looked at the image, deciding that, yes, Nikki would suit her just fine.

0o0o0o0

Russell walked out of the orthopedic surgeon's office, grateful to finally have a clean bill of health, so to speak. He could get back to work, and he desperately needed that distraction. Admittedly, he'd been working alongside Fletcher over the last two months, but he wasn't released to go on missions or do much with the now-complete reconstruction effort. He needed more than the thought of feeling more useful than a resource of information and a research tool.

And, though he didn't want to admit it, he was growing increasingly petty when the topic of Aideen came up. He'd realized at some point the week before that much of his anger that she was used by Dantehad faded. She was as much a victim as anyone else. More, really, than most, considering she'd been mentally raped and used to commit crimes, including Wrath's death, not to mention the torture of her own father. No, he'd forgiven her for being used and unable to stop it. Lately, much as he didn't want to admit it, Russell was angry because his little brother's attentions were focusing on her, even more so now that Fletcher knew she was pregnant.

And to speak of the devil…

"Miss Mustang!" a voice shouted out from the hallway. Russell groaned. Not only was Aideen here at the same time he was—and he had yet to bring himself to confront her—but it sounded like a reporter was as well, guessing by the tone of urgency and groveling in her voice that Russell had yet to hear from anyone short of the bane of the furher's existence. "Miss Mustang, what do you wish to say to rumors that Cadet Armstrong wasn't your first experience with another man and your claims that sleeping with him was merely an act between scared friends are false?"

Resigning himself to playing the hero thanks, in large part, to his time with Wrath, Russell ran to intervene, helping to pull the teenager out of the situation while telling off the reporter. After calling the woman a few choice words, Russell pushed the noticeably pregnant teen into another room.

"Thank you," she said, eyes welling up.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Did that woman hurt you?"

"No," she said, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "I do this from time to time. Not to mention that I'm getting so damned tired of those people. We told them the closest thing to the truth they're getting, and they still won't accept it."

"Sounds infuriating." Russell was not sure he wanted to have a conversation with her.

"It is." She sighed, looking at the door, hearing the sound of the reporter being hauled off by security. "I knew we'd have to tell everyone," She rubbed at the growing rounded bulge over her pants. "but I dreaded those filth more than anything."

"Well, you've not exactly had a good experience with reporters," Russell said. There were a few moments of silence before she finally broke the quiet. "Where are your parents?"

"Auntie's trying to help with the nerves in Dad's leg." The guilt was still evident in the teenager's voice. "The automail's still not working right, and Aunt Winry did everything that she could."

Despite himself, Russell found himself offering this girl encouragement. "I've known your aunts for a long time, neither of them will give up. Your Uncle Al either."

"Yeah. He's been looking at incorporating more alchemy into the automail." She smiled faintly, though her eyes only flickered upwards to meet his. "Thanks again," she said, barely able to look up at him as she reached out for the door handle, with a sudden gasp she held her stomach. Russell, with no experience at all in this area, immediately placed a hand on the teen's shoulder.

"Are you okay? Is it the baby?"

"She's kicking again," the pale young woman said, and as though she wasn't thinking about it, grabbed Russell's hand that rested on her shoulder and held it to her stomach. And much to his surprise, Russell felt it, the distinct pushing from her stomach as the baby within moved and shifted. It was strange to think of, at least, that there was something very much alive inside of the young woman. "Oh!" she said, releasing his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm just so used to doing that. Everyone always wants to feel."

"It's quite all right." Then a though struck him. If his brother, who was obviously blindly in love with her, managed to marry her, Russell could be feeling his own niece or nephew the next time she was in this condition. He would have just felt his adopted niece if that happened.

"Well," she said, "thank you for rescuing me again, though I really hope this pattern of mine with being rescued stops soon." She turned the knob on the door, still looking uncomfortable being in the room with him.

"Aideen," Russell said quietly. "Thank you for letting me feel the baby."

She smiled faintly as they went their separate ways, Aideen back to her fathers, Russell toward Frank and Kain's house.

0o0o0o0

Kain was preparing lunch while Frank was out shopping for groceries. It was amazing what the addition of the little girl could do to complete the domesticity of their little home. He found it more than a little amusing that Frank had admitted to understanding why Ed had never held any complaints over being the parent at home. Kain also understood now why Roy often regretted being at headquarters, rather than having an office set up next to Ed and Al's lab in the back yard. There were so many things to be missed being out in the world and away from his family.

Honestly, now nearly four months into being a father, being "Daddy," Kain wondered how well he was doing. His father had been a good man, and Kain wondered if he could live up the upstanding man's reputation. That didn't even take into consideration that the little girl with the mischievous amethyst eyes wasn't technically human at all.

But much of Kain's doubts were set to rest by Frank, not only because the older man lauded Kain's parenting ability, but that Frank was a natural parent and doubted himself more so than even Kain. The younger man felt that if his husband could be unsure of himself and still be good, so could he.

There was a knocking on the door, and Kain already knew it was Russell. Though the man was keeping a lot of things to himself since Wrath's death, he did seem to have become attached to Nina, and vice versa. Perhaps it was the fact that she had wrath's eyes, perhaps it was the simple fact that she was the last one to speak to him, or maybe Russell just needed a bit of that innocence—or at least Nina's particular brand of it.

Kain opened the door, finding the taller blond rubbing his goatee thoughtfully. Though the long blond ponytail and facial hair suited Russell, the brigadier general couldn't help but smirk at the younger man's actions.

"Pensive, Russell?"

"Huh?" There was a smile there, one that hadn't been there for months. "Oh, sorry. I've been a bit confused since my trip to the doctor's office." He stepped inside the small kitchen, looking around until he found his usual chair near the stove. "I nearly brought the wrong papers when I stopped off at the apartment." He slid the small stack onto the table. "Fletcher says 'Hi,' by the way."

Kain smiled. There was a casual ease to Russell when he was at their house which always went unacknowledged, though never unnoticed. If the blond was comfortable here, who was Kain to argue?

He took the documents offered to him. "So these are more of Hohenheim's notes?"

"Yep. More on how homunculi can gain souls. Even a theory that they can become human if they've never swallowed any redstones. And we know Nina didn't." Kain nodded, a bit stunned. Human. She could have an normal life, or at least the semblance of one.

"So, why were you so distracted?" Kain asked, seeing that while Russell seemed somewhat troubled beneath his steely green eyes, he was obviously not upset.

"I had to rescue the, as yet, youngest Mustang from a reporter." Kain said nothing, merely nodded, waiting for Russell to continue. It was no secret that he hadn't really seen Aideen aside from in passing. "The baby was kicking, and on instinct, she pulled my hand to her stomach." Russell shook his head. "People need to stop asking her if they can feel if she does that instinctually." Funny, Kain thought, he sounded protective of the teenager. "And she had been crying, hormones, I think. It just struck me that Fletcher's head-over-heels for her, and maybe I can manage a little civility."

"And feeling her stomach had nothing to do with it?"

"Just reminded me that Fletcher liked her." Russell looked at Kain mistrustfully. "What?"

"Nothing at all." Kain figured if Russell didn't want to say it, he wasn't going to force him. Whatever had gone through Russell's mind at the moment he'd felt the baby kick had obviously changed his outlook. Kain wasn't going to press matters to ask why.

They sat for a few minutes, Kain flipping through the research, Russell more than willingly pointing out what he'd found when the clock struck noon. "Well, I guess Nina's lessons for the day with Nicholas are over," Russell said. "Today was a good day for her?"

"She's having fewer bad ones, thankfully," Kain answered. "Though I would expect that now that she looks nearly ten."

"When they say 'They grow up so fast,'" Russell said, leaning back in his chair, "I bet that wasn't what they meant."

Kain shook his head, standing again at the stove to remove the soup. "Oh, I should warn you that Nina's been trying to figure out what to call you all day. She said she doesn't like Mr. Tringham because there are two of you, though I think she just wants to give you a name like she did Frank and I."

"As long as it isn't papa," Russell joked, though his voice sounded a little pained.

"Russell?"

"What? I never wanted kids. I'll be a great uncle, but I'd be crap for a father."

"Well, I'm not going to spoil what Nina decided on, but I think you'll be okay with it." Kain began ladeling out the vegetable soup Frank had made and he had only heated up. "Stay for lunch?"

"Do you have enough?" he asked.

"Would I have asked?"

Russell rolled his eyes as Nina came bursting from the living room, Nicholas behind her, wearing a light sweater.

"What's the shirt say this time?" Russell asked.

Nicholas looked at him with a grin. "This one's innocent, I swear." Kain looked at the two curiously. "Russell happened to notice one day at headquarters when I was visiting that he could read the writing on my undershirt through my white dress shirt. I do it to irritate my parents. Sometimes to give them a laugh."

Nicholas rolled up the sweater and held it beneath his chin and pulled down the baby blue shirt beneath. It read "Uncle in Training."

"Aideen's not so sensitive about it, so I figured it was okay with her, and since I've got a double date for lunch, I figure this could help me win points." He grinned. The two older men exchanged labored expressions, while Nina smiled up at Nicholas.

"I think he'll make a good uncle, just like my Uncle Russell."

Kain had to say that for the first time in a long time, the state alchemist looked pleasantly surprised.

0o0o0o0

Fletcher jogged up the steps of the Mustang home. After some prodding on Aideen's part, he'd gone over his research from the east and uncovered a few plants that might work to help the regeneration of Ed's nerves. Fletcher would have done it anyway, but he'd seriously doubted that he'd be able to find it among his research. Aideen, however, had been certain she'd found something ages ago that with some additional tweaking could manage to help her father.

She had poured over documents and research when she could, but had been obviously afraid to overstrain herself. Fletcher knew that if it wasn't for being six months along, the teen would have devoted herself entirely to the research. The pregnancy was a major strain on her, but Fletcher couldn't help but be grateful for the little girl on the way. If it wasn't for Nikki—he'd been told of Ed's name for the unborn baby a few days before, agreeing completely with Aideen that it was perfect—he knew the young woman would have exhausted herself with her research and trying to make retributions for the sins Dante committee with her body.

He had been told at the front gate to go ahead and enter the house, as both Ed and Roy were going out for lunch, while Aideen had returned home to rest. Still, as he opened the oak door, Fletcher lightly rapped, calling out.

"Aideen?"

"In the study," her voice said quietly in the empty house.

Fletcher made his way down the hall, stopping as he made his way to the doorway of the study, finding Aideen seated on the sofa, one hand rubbing idly at the swollen stomach, the window letting in a glow from the sun making her hair glow blue-black in the light and her ivory skin was nearly incandescent. She was looking over a large album, her bottom lip drawn in between her teeth. The gold-brown eyes looked up at him, the expression on them unreadable and muddled full of so many emotions that Fletcher was at a loss to determine each one.

"Hi, Fletcher," she said, the faintest color coming to her cheeks as she saw him. The blond didn't have a huge ego, but he felt a sense of pride that he was able to bring out such a reaction in her.

"Hello," he said, walking over to the sofa, glancing down at the large book on what remained of her lap including the rounded stomach, a photo album. Watching her, Fletcher had a flash of what it might be like to be with her, to have been the one to have gotten her pregnant. Then, he shook his head, unfortunately much too noticeably, as his higher functioning mind groaned in shame at the more primitive thoughts that had flashed through his mind.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes twitching as she was obviously trying to read his face and the reason for his head shake.

"Sorry, mind was elsewhere."

She smiled knowingly, such a small and gentle little grin. "I seem to be doing that a lot more, actually." Her hand moved down to her stomach. "Nikki doesn't like me to focus on anything too long."

Fletcher took a seat beside the raven-haired teen. "I think that's pretty common."

"Not for me."

"Not for your dad either, but I think it was the same for him." Fletcher looked over at the Aideen, his hand brushing with hers as he laid his fingers on the photos in the album. Both of them moved as though struck by something hot, but not moving it from the book. They hated to admit it, but there was so much still unsaid about one another.

"Family pictures?"

"Yeah. I just couldn't make sense of the anything I looked at, so I went through the family album." She turned and pulled a piece of paper over, putting it on top of a picture of Roy throwing a snowball at Ed while the twins laughed on. "I wanted to put this in, too." Aideen's fingers traced over the sonogram picture, over the tiny body of a baby girl that finally looked like a baby, rather than an alien lifeform or nothing more than a backside—from the last one Fletcher had seen.

"So she decided to show herself for the photo this time."

He found himself drawn to that image in black and white. It could have been his. If he hadn't turned Aideen out that night, that could have been his daughter. "I wonder what she's going to look like. I mean, will she have black hair, brown, blond? What color eyes?"

"Anxious to see her?"

"But still terrified of what to do when she gets here."

"You'll have your family to help you."

"I know." Her hand was moving over a photo, covering enough of it that he couldn't exactly see the image. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he pulled them off of the photo, seeing one of Roy and Ed while Ed had been pregnant. They were on this very sofa, Roy seated against an arm of the furniture, Ed resting between his legs and sleeping against the older man's chest as he, very much awake, was running a hand over Ed's swollen midsection.

Taking the initiative, Fletcher leaned back against the armrest, laying his leg along the back of the sofa, holding her hand all the while. She looked at him, eyes wide with shock.

"Scoot back," he said. "If you don't mind."

"No, I…" That faint pink color re-appeared. "Okay."

Slowly she eased to a position that turned her sideways on the sofa, her back much too tense, as though afraid to rest against him. "If you don't want to, you don't have to." It was a few moments before she leaned back against him, body resting against his, melting against his chest.

She moved around a bit, tensing once again as his hands wrapped around her, fingers splayed over her stomach. "I'm just going to hold you," he said quietly. "You're okay."

"I know that," she answered just as quietly. "It's you." Again, her body relaxed, head moving back to rest on his shoulder.

"Do you think your fathers and brother would appreciate an extra hand on your bedroom?"

"Probably," she answered, actually allowing herself to get comfortable in his arms. "It will be strange to be up in the guest room, but it's got two rooms and just makes more sense." She sighed against his chest. "But it will be nice to have a bedroom that isn't purple. That used to be my favorite color, but as I got older, it wasn't. It was hers." Fletcher waited for her to try to cover the revealing statement, but she didn't. It appeared they'd moved to a point where she was confident enough in Fletcher to make this small confession.

"You don't have to answer if it's too hard, but that night…" She became a tight ball of muscle again in his arms. He debated not finishing this thought, but he needed to get past this, or holding her like this might be all he'd ever have. Though he could live with that, keeping her in his arms forever, the idea that they had an opportunity at more was something he needed to chance. "That night, it was Dante who kissed me, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"I could tell." As though sensing her mother's discomfort, Nikki began shifting and rolling beneath his hands. "Not soon enough, unfortunately. I knew something wasn't right and I'd contacted your father, but never anticipated that Dante was in there." He moved his left hand up to touch Aideen's right cheek. "I'd wanted my first time kissing you to be my first time kissing _you_."

Aideen turned to look up at him, as he tilted his head down, pressing their lips together lightly, as much as he could manage at this angle. Her lips were full and soft, hesitant, but never pulling back. The kiss ended nearly as soon as it had begun, leaving Fletcher wanting more and fearing he had taken things too far too soon after everything she'd been through.

"She went to you," Aideen said, as she looked away from him again, "because she knew how much I… liked you." She turned in his arms as much as his stomach would allow and once again looked at him. "So the reason you pulled away was because you knew it wasn't me?"

"If it had been you that night, or at least felt like things were right," he said, carding his hand in her hair, his heart leaping in his chest that she hadn't pulled away, but instead leaned into his touch, "I would have had much more difficulty controlling myself." His hand lingered over her stomach, getting the message across all the same. "Just like I'm having problems not kissing you again right now."

She looked up at him expectantly as he brought their mouths together again, his lips memorizing hers before he allowed his tongue to trace the line of her lips before they parted and his tongue enjoyed each curve of her mouth, her smooth teeth, the sweet taste of her tongue as it ran against his. He pulled away again and wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to settle against his chest as he ran a hand through her hair with one hand, felt the baby settle beneath his other.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas leaned against the post outside the restaurant, Victor running up the sidewalk. "I couldn't find parking. Sorry," the dark-haired boy said, slightly out of breath. "So, where are our dates?"

"They'll be here in a minute," Nicholas answered, his smile easy around his long-time friend.

"So, how do we decide which one we get? You said siblings, right? Do you already have one in mind, do I get first pick?" It took all Nicholas had not to laugh outright at that.

"I was thinking that I'd take the brother and you get the sister," Nicholas said, watching the surprise on his sister's face. "I mean, I'd have taken both, but they didn't like that idea." Then, he smirked. "Unless you want the brother."

"No! Damn it, Nicholas. I assumed sisters. So sue me." Victor folded his arms across his chest.

Nicholas quirked an eyebrow at the other teen, but the two walked in side by side, taking a seat at a table.

It was an odd silence from Victor, who usually managed to carry on a conversation with a brick wall.

Finally, much to Nicholas's relief, the blond brother and sister entered the restaurant. The sister then brother came up to Nicholas and kissed him on the cheek.

"Penelope," Nicholas said, "this is Victor Lombardi."

"He's cute," Aaron, the brother, said. "You're lucky, Pen."

"Excuse me?" Nicholas said, mock-insulted.

"Oh, you know you're adorable." Nicholas grinned, enjoying the flattery, even if he was a little put off by how over-the-top Aaron was behaving with him, leaning close enough to kiss his cheek and trying to tickle Nicholas's neck. He'd tried to tell Aaron to keep things subtle, but it was obvious that the older man hadn't listened.

"Well," Nicholas said, "how about a little lunch?"

Lunch was awkward at best, Aaron seemingly unable to keep his hands off of Nicholas. Apparently, there had been no need to wear the shirt because he needed no help with the blond man. Maybe it was the fact that Aaron was older, or that he was more flamboyant than Nicholas even on his worst day, but Nicholas could see Victor was tense throughout the meal.

It only got worse when Aaron began tickling at the hair at the base of Nicholas's neck. "So, what are you doing tonight?"

"Oh, damn it," Victor said. "I'm sorry Penelope. I'm sure you're very nice, but I have to go." Victor tossed some money on the table and stormed out.

Confused, Nicholas followed behind his friend, making apologies, but knowing he probably wasn't going to see either of them again, at least not to date. He stepped outside and ran after Victor. "Victor, what the hell happened in there?" Victor didn't answer and continued walking. "Victor!"

The darker complected teen turned around and looked at the blond. "He was all over you. I keep telling myself I'm okay with it, Nicholas, but watching him today, I just… I'm sorry Nicholas. I just couldn't sit there."

"I thought you didn't have a problem with me dating men too."

"I didn't. I don't."

"Well that sure as hell didn't seem like you're okay with it."

"I don't know, Nicholas. I'm trying. It's just, are they always like that? You know, guys when they're interested in you?"

"No more than when a girl is interested and they sometimes get enthusiastic." Nicholas shrugged.

"And you just let it happen?"

"Felt good," Nicholas said, again shrugging. "But it was getting uncomfortable back there."

Again, there was silence between the two teenagers before Nicholas stood by Victor, bumping shoulders. "Well, at least to end this date, it was you who was horribly rude and not me. Headlines aren't going to read: Fuhrer's son causes scene at restaurant."

Victor rolled his brown eyes.

0o0o0o0

Ed held Roy's hand as they walked into their house, wishing he'd received better news about his arm. The nerves simply seemed to be dead, and Raine had suggested that he consider how to cope with the idea of not having his arm and looking into a good prosthetic. Aideen had offered to go home, allowing the two men to eat a quiet lunch together before coming home.

They were no sooner through the door than Ed found himself being engulfed in his husband's arms. Honestly, Ed knew his husband was expecting him to cry or drop back into his previous depression, but Ed just couldn't bring himself to manage it. He'd been anticipating this for a while, had hoped it would never come, but feared it. His daughter was finishing her second trimester, was coping but still terrified. His son was left playing comic relief in attempt to alleviate the tension in the house. Ed just felt that all his tears for himself were gone along with hope that his arm would be restored.

Still, he took the comforting embrace from the taller man, his body melding perfectly into Roy's as it had always done. They stood in silence for a few minutes, Roy stroking a hand over the high tail of Ed's hair, while he clung to the suit jacket.

Ed let out a sigh. "Enough of this, Roy. You've got to get back to headquarters. You need to get into your uniform." He gently squeezed his husband's elbow as they walked by the study, where Ed was certain they'd find Aideen. "Roy," Ed whispered. "Stay quiet, but look at this."

Roy stood beside the smaller alchemist, keeping his voice low as instructed. "What does he think he's doing?"

"Holding our daughter," Ed hissed back, though he had to admit that even he was taken aback by the fact that Aideen was securely wrapped in Fletcher's arms, both of them sound asleep. Fletcher had his arm across her shoulders, holding her firmly to his chest while one of her hands reached up and locked itself with the hand at her shoulders, just as the other overlapped Fletcher's at her stomach. Added to that, Aideen's dog was laying in front of the sofa, as though showing his own approval.

"I think they've finally decided what they are to one another."

"You are happy about this? After everything she's gone through, isn't it too much too soon?"

"She wouldn't have fallen asleep and be holding hands with him if it was," Ed said. "Honestly, knowing that he still cares for her, whether anything happens in the future or not, may do her more good than all the therapy in the world." Ed looked up at the dark eyes beneath the fringe of gray bangs and ran a hand over the pale cheek. They both knew how important that it was to be loved and know that no matter what happened, it was still possible for someone—especially someone they cared about—to still care.

0o0o0o0

Aideen had been unbelievably embarrassed when her dad woke her up for her iron pill and a snack along with it. Aside from the embarrassment at being found in Fletcher's arms or the fact that she'd nearly kicked poor Flint, who'd found a place at the front of the sofa, while she was sitting up, Aideen hadn't really wanted to move. She'd felt warm and safe in the older man's arms.

After talking with her dad, Fletcher had left, giving Aideen a quick peck on the cheek, hands lingering as they held hers.

Now, she stood in the kitchen beside her dad, trying to help him as much as she could in the room that felt as though it grew smaller as she grew larger. Against her own control, Aideen felt her lips turn upward. Fletcher liked her, cared for her in the way she'd always hoped he would.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" her dad said. She turned to him, quirking an eyebrow. "You look like your papa when you do that." He chuckled, though Aideen suspected he knew how much she liked hearing that she did something like one of them, as she was still trying to discover what behavior was hers, what was Dante's, and what she'd picked up from her family.

"What feels good?" she asked, trying not to knock into the nearest chair with her stomach.

"Knowing you have someone like Fletcher. It's a good feeling, isn't it?"

"It really is." She began chopping up some carrots, knowing that her father couldn't. "Phillip was always as supportive and would have loved me regardless." It hurt that he was dead, though it didn't stop her from being angry he hadn't been able to recognize her the way Fletcher had, but Aideen felt the teen must have known that angry as he might have been, she didn't hate him. "But, Fletcher…"

"He's different. I know."

They worked quickly, but as her dad was making his way to stir the pot of vegetable soup, Aideen watched in near slow motion as his leg locked up and he started to fall. She moved to catch him or at least slow his fall, cursing herself again for not stopping Dante from bringing him to this point. She cursed Dante for using Nikki to open the Gate, as they couldn't use alchemy without risking her daughter. She knew the transmutation for nerve repair. If she'd just been able to do that, been a third person using her alchemy to help him, maybe he'd have never gotten to that point.

In a fraction of a second, those thoughts went through her mind as she laid her hands on his bare arm, trying to stop him from falling. Her hands, coming on contact with his bare forearm released a powerful transmutation. Circle-less and nearly unconscious, she was performing medical alchemy; she was trying to heal him.


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65 **

**_Shower _**

****

**_Two months later_**

"Winry, I'm going to kill your husband," Ed yelled from the kitchen, shaking out snow from his shirt. "I just need your permission."

"The automail's working just fine," Winry called back. "It's been six weeks since it was installed. Kill away."

"Winry!" Al yelled, inching toward the back door of the house, away from a murderous older brother.

"Your own wife gave me permission, little brother," Ed said as he practically pounced Al into the snow.

"You shouldn't be out in the cold like this, Brother," Al said as he dumped a handful of the powdery mix onto Ed's hair. "Think of your ports."

"Working better than ever, thanks to Aideen."

"Speaking of her, looks like we're entertaining her just a bit," Al said as he managed to roll the smaller but considerably heavier man from him. Ed had to agree, at least, as much as he could from the tiny glimpse he got of Aideen as he was unceremoniously buried in the snow. Knowing the metal would be freezing cold, Ed thrust his hand up the front of Al's shirt, actually earning a girly squeal from his younger brother.

"That's fighting dirty."

"You started it throwing snow down the front of my shirt."

The two continued their little fight out in the snow until a voice bellowed from inside the house. "You two juveniles get your asses in this house now, or I'm not treating either of you if you catch pneumonia."

"Yeah, get in here, or Grandmama won't treat your asses." At the sound of Juliana's little voice, both Elrics burst into laughter.

"I'd have thought _you'd_ be the one teaching your adopted niece foul language, Brother," Al said as he stood and brushed himself off.

"Yeah, well the good doctor can do enough swearing of her own when she's not thinking about it." Ed shook out his long main of hair, running both hands—thank fate, the gods he didn't believe in, the Gate, and especially the dark haired teen smiling at him from the window—through the gold tail, shaking out as much of the white snow as he could. "Though, I have to agree with her. It's one thing when you're all flesh, but cold metal isn't all that pleasant. Let's get inside and get changed. I'm sure Nicholas has an interesting shirt you can borrow until yours dries."

Al chuckled as they came through the door to the kitchen side-by-side, hearing simultaneous snaps and feeling a blast of warm air surrounding them.

"That is a very handy trick, Nicholas," Roy said, snapping again to re-heat the cooling air around the smaller alchemist.

"Damn it Roy, I'm dry, stop it."

"Worried you'll shrink, Ed?"

"Bite me, old man." Ed pulled out the now-loose leather band holding his hair in place and shook out the still long mane, smiling up at his husband as he walked by the cake and punch set out for the baby shower.

Looking at the cake, that Gracia had somehow found time to make in the midst of the whirlwind of her five-month-old grandson, Ed was grateful for the fact that his family was able to embrace this new addition. Though he wasn't usually a poetic person, finding flowery language took much too much time to get the point across, Ed had to admit that the last few weeks, the house had seemed bright once again.

Initially, Ed thought maybe it was only his perception of the situation, as Aideen had accidentally tapped into both her own and Nikki's alchemy in trying to catch him and allowed Ed to have his automail reattached. He considered that his outlook along had been altered because he was no longer feeling useless. But he had to admit that Roy seemed happier than he had in ages and so did Nicholas. For Aideen, there was the lingering fear that her accidental use of alchemy had injured Nikki, but thankfully, having Nicholas in the house and Raine making regular visits, they put many of those fears to rest. Nikki was still small, but fully developed for how far along Aideen was, and the expectant mother was on a very strict bedrest just in case.

Not really realizing he was doing it, Ed visibly shuddered. His daughter was going to be a mother in another month. That thought, more so than the idea that he was going to be a grandfather, disturbed him. Truth be told, he'd contemplated the possibility that he'd become a grandfather young, but he'd expected his first grandchild to come from Nicholas, certainly not Aideen, at least if one came while he was still this age.

Ed turned the corner into the study, seeing Rose helping to prop Aideen up on pillows, while trying to ignore her husband who was trying to cater to Aideen's every need. Aideen flashed a nervous smile in Ed's direction, but not at Ed. When he saw a taller blond not far from him, Ed realized that Fletcher had been the target of her little exchange.

Honestly, the younger father didn't know how he felt about that. All he knew was that Aideen smiled more freely, laughed easier, and seemed content after having not been for so long. His issues weren't the age difference, considering his with Roy was larger. Nor was it even the fact that Fletcher had known Aideen since birth, nearly. He had hardly been present until Aideen was ten and even then did much of his work underground. Ed felt an odd twinge at them being together, but the fact that he was just getting to know his daughter made it difficult to share her time with her new boyfriend—even if the two wouldn't classify themselves at that stage.

0o0o0o0

Frank watched as Elysia, her baby boy in her arms, came over and rescued Aideen from the well-meanng, but in-fighting Armstrongs.

"Aideen," Elysia said. "Would you like to hold Michael?"

"Oh, I…" the teen stammered as she tried to shift into position. "Okay." Her hand went to her stomach, which was beginning to resemble a small watermelon. She was at what now, thirty-four, thirty-five weeks? Frank wasn't exactly sure. He just knew there was just over a month left before the new baby came along, a fact he had to know well because of Nina's constant pestering. Speaking of his often vanishing child, he looked for her in the crowded room. Really, he didn't know why he hadn't started at the most obvious place, near the baby being passed into Aideen's arms, little Juliana not far behind.

There was an age difference between the girls of five years, though it appeared the opposite of what it was, as Juliana had just celebrated her fifth birthday a month before, while Nina seemed to be all of ten years old. Thankfully, though, the girl no longer had the aches and pains from her body trying to adjust to the doll's apparent age.

The two young girls watched as Elysia passed the baby to her.

"He's getting so big," Nina said, looking up at both the boy's mother and then Aideen before lightly stroking over little Michael's black hair.

"But he's still little," Juliana said, looking down at Aideen's enormous stomach. "And there's another one in there?"

"Yes. A little girl," Aideen answered, seeming to have acquired a new ability recently to talk to children. To the best of his knowledge, Frank couldn't remember her being so easy with them before. Nina was holding out her hand to touch the teenager's stomach. She received a nod from the young woman before laying a hand over the polka dotted bump.

"I don't feel anything," Nina said.

"She hasn't been moving as much today. It's getting kind of cramped in there for her."

The two girls nodded. Though, everyone seemed to have noticed that Aideen's stomach seemed to be lower than it had been.

Watching them, Frank wouldn't call Aideen a natural when it came to holding the fidgeting baby, but there was a strange draw to her like that. All the children in the room, from the two girls already there to Al's two youngest, seemed drawn to the young woman as she cradled little Michael. He felt sorry for Aideen, that she hadn't gotten more time to figure out who she was as an individual before she was trying to decide who she would be as a mother. Even at the back of the room, Frank could see the trepidation in the brown and gold eyes. She shifted and squirmed a bit in discomfort, apparently having problems getting comfortable.

As he stood, sipping on a very sweet punch that Ed had undoubtedly made, Frank felt a hand filling his own. With a smile, Frank squeezed the familiar calloused hand, not even looking down at the smaller man at his side. He received a squeeze in return.

"I think we're going to need to distract the children," Frank said. "Aideen's starting to look claustrophobic there."

Thankfully, before Frank could come up with something half as interesting as the baby in Aideen's arms and the one in her belly, Nicholas called out, "Cake's ready."

There was a lot of noise as the children pulled themselves away from Aideen and went out to the kitchen. The blond teen poked his head in from the kitchen, meeting the grateful gaze of his sister.

Nicholas held two pieces of cake in his hands, a vanilla with the multi-colored icing, and a chocolate one from the other half of the cake with mounds of the sugary icing, obviously for himself.

Aideen saw the cake, appearing to consider it for a moment, then told Nicholas to set it on the nearby table, as it held very little interest at the moment, and she couldn't accept it with her hands full of baby. Instead, she propped little Michael on top of the overly round bump and played with the tiny boy who attempted to grab her hands, amused by the red paint on her nails.

Nicholas smiled, rubbing the little dark head of hair, making a face that earned a heartwarming laugh from both his sister and the baby as he walked back to Kain and Frank.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a favor," Nicholas said. "My friend Victor is running late and will be here any time now."

Frank looked down at Kain, curiously.

"Victor's been acting a little strange around me. I think It's because I'm not particular whether it comes to men or women, but I wonder if it's just me or not. I know he's seen Dad and Papa together. I mean, who in this country hasn't? But, I thought maybe if the two of you—"

"Performed lewd acts in front of him?" Frank asked with an arched eyebrow, earning a backhand to his gut from the shorter man at his side.

"Frank!" Kain scolded.

"Well, you don't have to scar the children for life," Nicholas said with a roll of his coal black eyes. "Just be affectionate around him. I'm trying to figure out if it's men together in general or if it's just me."

"And if it's just you?" Kain asked. Nicholas only shrugged.

"At least I'll know."

Frank looked at the blond strangely but nodded his head all the same. He didn't reallhy need to be doing a favor to show affection to his younger husband.

0o0o0o0

Al watched his older brother tucking his long hair behind his ears. He hadn't bothered to tie it back up after their tussle outside. Al had cut a good portion of his own hair off, leaving it just long enough to tie back out of his face. Ed's practically hung to the small of his back, and Al wondered just how long his older brother would keep the hair at that length.

As he watched Roy come up beside Ed, whispering something in the smaller man's ear, hand wrapping itself in the gold locks, Al had to assume that the hair would stay this length as long as Roy Mustang was still enamored by it. Watching the two of them, so easily talking to one another, flirting, joking, Al still felt a twinge of guilt for his jealousy over their closeness and doubts that they would ever work—many of which he'd left unsaid.

Al stepped into the study where Winry was discussing the basics of automail mechanics to Major Falman. The man was a literal encyclopedia and could talk about anything with near-expert detail. He saw Aideen lounging on the sofa with Elysia's son resting against her shoulder, shifting herself to get comfortable with the baby in her arms. Though he knew there was still a long way to go for the teen, Al couldn't help but feel the smallest bit of pride at the progress she'd made. She'd trusted him to talk about everything, from her time with Dante to the pregnancy, to the way she felt about Fletcher Tringham. He'd done his best to talk her through her problems, and sometimes just provide an understanding ear. Despite the fact that he knew this amount recovery was hers, Al felt pride knowing he'd helped her find it.

Though, he had to admit that a portion of it came from the two blonds now talking in the corner. Nicholas had been Nicholas, completely unchanged by the knowledge of what his sister had gone through. He had teased her, he had bickered with her, and he had loved her like a brother should. Really, his nephew had done his fair share in helping the entire family heal. Then there was Fletcher, who Al knew had realized his feelings for Aideen a little over a year ago. It made the Soul Alchemist wonder if Fletcher had any idea of how long Aideen had feelings for him. While the rest of the family had taken their relationship as one of friends or that of a mentor, possibly even of family, Aideen had a crush on him all along, one that only grew and became more awkward as she reached an age where she felt it could go somewhere. Al knew how rare it was for a first crush to become a mutual love—as he was one of the rare cases of when it happened—but to have it happen was something spectacular, and you could tell by looking at Aideen, even Fletcher.

It was a shame that, in trying to be tactful, the couple couldn't admit they were that. Both had agreed that it would be better for them to be together after Nikki's birth, not wanting to hurt the Armstrongs or to let them think that somehow they were dishonoring Phillip's memory by bringing a new father figure into the mix. Rose had already shown some dislike for the fact that nearly everyone was referring to the unborn baby as Nikki, when her first name would be Phillis. Al agreed that Aideen was probably wise not to push things by making her relationship public.

Al couldn't help but feel content as he watched at this party, his sons and daughters mingling with the other children their age, his niece and nephew already so adult. Breda was splitting a piece of chicken with Flint, having made his peace with at least this one dog while caring for it while the family was recovering. The other family pet was currently snuggling up to Raine, who was struggling not to trip over the dark gray cat as she carried both her plate and Juliana's to one of the chairs. Juliana dutifully followed behind. Though marriage would probably never happen for the Raine and Vato, Juliana had solidified their family as had her mother, Kathy, in her own way. It had been a shock when Kathy's will had included that she wanted both her father and Raine to raise Juliana. Despite the arguments the two women had over the years, Kathy had felt Raine more than capable of taking care of Juliana.

To watch the little red-headed girl, there really was no doubt in it.

Elysia crossed the distance of the study to take her baby from Aideen, and the teen struggled to stand.

"Aideen," General Armstrong said, having forgone calling her Miss Mustang as she was now family, "please tell me what you need. I will retrieve it for you."

"I really have to do this myself," she answered, though Al suspected it wouldn't be enough to deter the good-natured giant.

"You are to be on bed rest. It would not do well for you and the baby to overtax yourself."

Scowling up at him, the beginnings of hormones taking over, if nearly literal dark cloud was any sign, Aideen all but hissed, "Unless you can help me use the bathroom, help me up."

Al snickered at the flustered expression on the older man's face as he guided Aideen to her feet and allowed her to walk—waddle—to the bathroom. Thankfully what could have been a very nasty incident with a hormonal woman became nothing more than a moment's glare and some angry muttering as she left the room, hand gripping her back.

0o0o0o0

Nicholas smirked at his sister and shook his head at the general. Armstrong had a son of his own, surely he remembered what hormonal, pregnant women were like. Nicholas was still nursing the bruise on his ribs for teasing his sister about her adopted waddle. He hated to imagine what she would be like in a few weeks when she actually delivered the baby. The poor sucker—and it wasn't going to be him—who held her hand through the delivery would probably find his or her own crushed.

When the doorbell rang, Nicholas all but leapt over the party guests to greet his friend. He didn't want to admit to himself how much he wanted to see the reaction on Victor's face to Frank and Kain. Nicholas couldn't explain it, but he needed some confirmation one way or another that Victor wasn't going to have issues with Nicholas's preferences, or lack thereof. Nicholas wasn't going to change his behavior or guide himself strictly to women just because he was afraid how his friend would react that he found a man attractive. Nicholas looked for the way people carried themselves, looked at personality, interests, and appearance to an extent.

Nicholas felt strange for thinking how much his friend's opinion meant to him, but he knew it did. Victor had been one of the few not to treat him differently when Nicholas had first shown an interest in both genders. He had merely asked if Nicholas liked men too, said he okay with it, and made the condition that Nicholas not hit on him. Some in the school behaved like he'd betrayed them by not telling them this honestly personal and private detail about himself. Victor had just asked that If Nicholas decided to do something like this again, that he inform his friends first so they knew what the media was talking about when they were looking for an exclusive interview.

Opening the door, Nicholas found a very excited Victor waving around a letter. "I got in!" Victor yelled, throwing his arms around Nicholas. "I'm going to the academy!"

"Congratulations!" Nicholas said as he returned the embrace, his mind counting down until his friend realized they were hugging one another.

3… 2… 1…

"Oh, sorry," Victor said, backing off as though Nicholas had the plague. The blond restrained himself from rolling his eyes at his friend, instead congratulating Victor once again as the dark-haired teen grinned from ear to ear.

"What's this about the academy?" Nicholas heard his papa say behind him.

"Fuhrer, sir, I am going to start as a cadet this January for the Spring term."

"Then congratulations are in order. The academy is a fine place to hone your abilities."

"Not that you'd know. He didn't graduate from it," Nicholas's dad said, poking his papa in the ribs.

"You didn't even attend," the older man responded back, putting an arm around the smaller parent and crushing him to his side.

"Come on in," Nicholas said. "We've got plenty of cake and food."

The moment they walked into the study, the announcement was made about Victor's acceptance into the academy, and the future cadet found himself surrounded by well-wishers, nearly all of whom had some form of rank or were related to someone of rank. At first, Nicholas found it amusing that his friend, not yet a member of the military had so many connections through Nicholas. Then, that same thought started to make him sick. What if Nicholas's preferences did disgust Victor, but he had always wanted to join the military?

Coal black eyes followed the darker-complected teen as he shook hand after hand, then talked to Kain and Frank. There was no flinching, not even the faintest flicker of disgust in his eyes. He even knelt down to talk to Nina about a few sports she had a growing interest in before laughing at her twisted face when her fathers kissed.

"You're too old to be kissing," she said, her voice holding more than a hint of a whine. Victor only laughed harder.

Nicholas felt as though his head might explode trying to figure this out.

0o0o0o0

Russell was standing in the kitchen, half listening to the guests talking about Victor's admission into the military academy, Nicholas's plans to take the state alchemist's exam rather than do the academy, and even the presents they'd gotten the baby.

"I couldn't resist it. I got Nikki a little red coat," Ed said. "Even put a Flamel on the back."

"You have an obsession with that coat," Roy told him.

Russell was glad he'd managed to get here without feeling too sorry for himself. Yet, he couldn't that he didn't quite feel a part of this group. Like it or not, he and Wrath had secluded himself from the world, and now that he had to face it all alone, Russell felt lost and just a bit awkward. His brother was in the room talking with Rose Armstrong, ruffling the hair of young Alex as he did.

Fletcher was always more of a natural at fitting in.

Standing where he was, he heard a voice from the hall. He stepped out, following the sound.

"Someone, help!" Russell ran faster to the bathroom.

"Aideen?"

"I'm bleeding. Tell them I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding where?"

"I think I'm in labor, where do you think I'm bleeding from?"

"Okay!" he yelled back, exasperated and worried.

He ran into the study, prepared at first to just yell out that Aideen was in trouble. Realizing the insanity that that would cause, he instead discretely grabbed Raine and pulled her into the hall, dragging her to the bathroom. He was trying to convey silently what the problem was as he pulled her to the bathroom door.

"Princess?" Raine called out.

"Auntie, there's blood."

"You're going to have to let me in." There was a click on the other side and Russell found himself being pulled inside. "I'm going to need your help."

"But, but I'm…"

"If we let that crowd in there know exactly what's going on, we'll have a crowded bathroom."

For the first time that he could remember, Russell found himself blushing.

"I'm just going to ask you to get a wet washcloth. You don't have to look at a damned thing. Calm down."

Aideen left out a pained moan. "I thought it was just back cramps or from sitting in the same position."

Russell turned his back to the two women and grabbed a washcloth from the sink and began putting warm water on it.

He could see the two women shifting behind him in the mirror, though he didn't dare look down. Aideen was moved to the floor, where her aunt began to examine her. Russell wrung out the washcloth just enough before handing it to Raine.

"Brace her back, Russell," Raine said.

Eyes squinted just enough so that he couldn't see anything he didn't really have the desire to, he sat behind Aideen, propping her up and rubbing slow circles on her back.

"Aideen, why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I didn't realize. I hadn't felt it more than a couple times. Then I came in here. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"You've never gone through this, Princess. Nothing to apologize for. Your dad was in full-out labor and didn't realize it. Let's just see." Russell continued to rub Aideen's back.

"Okay, Princess," Raine's voice was unsteady. "We need to get you to the hospital."

Aideen arched in pain against Russell's chest.

"Looks like this little one's got the same patience as the rest of the family," Raine lowered Aideen's long flowing skirt. "Russell, how well do you think you can carry her?"

"The arm's fine, if she trusts me," Russell said, wondering where his sudden confidence came from. He noticed a faint nod from the pregnant young woman despite her tears. Carefully, gently as he could, Russell pulled Aideen into his arms, carrying her from the bathroom, led by Raine.

"Tell the guards. By the time I've told the rest, I'm sure that half the study will be out there with you."

Russell was at a total loss for how he got himself into this situation, for what to do with the crying, pregnant teen, in labor, in his arms, and for how to offer comfort for someone who had yet to come to full term.

She sobbed, and he tried to say some words of comfort, but they only came out as unintelligible noises in a soothing tone.

0o0o0o0

Never in his life had Roy managed to beat Ed running anywhere, but today, he found himself into the vehicle beside their daughter before even Ed could make it to the driveway. She was resting her back on Russell sobbing before crying out in pain. Roy grabbed hold of her hand, wishing he or Ed had used the information Nicholas had given them, how to transfer the pregnancy. He wanted to take away her pain.

"Papa," she croaked out. Roy could see a flash of her when she was only four, suffering from the effects of poison. But now, he was faced with a young woman, prepared to give birth to her own child. And this young woman, still very much his daughter, was in pain and was sick with worry. He took the hand whose color and texture so closely matched his own. He worried for her as he brushed her hair from her forehead.

"I'm here. I'll always be here, Sweetie."

"Papa, I'm not supposed to be in labor yet. I'm not supposed to. It just isn't right. It's my fault."

"It's not your fault," a raspy, strained voice said as Ed climbed into the seat beside him. "Not your fault at all."

The ride was full of words of affirmation, her own sobs of guilt and worry, all the while Ed and Roy held one another's hands, trying to offer support to one another and still channel it to their daughter.

The sickening part had been watching her go behind metal doors, having to stay in the waiting room. They'd paced, they'd clung to one another. Rose and Armstrong seemed to have resolved their differences as they waited in one part of the large room. Nicholas had sunk to the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, the automail reflecting the sickening yellow light that glowed down on the previously happy party.

Ed was a mass of nerves, pacing and jumping at the slightest noise or movement. Roy was following a different path, much less hurried than his husband's, but all the while, the older man was lamenting how useless he felt. He was the fuhrer of the country, was one of the top alchemists and was related to the four usually listed above him. So why the hell couldn't he do something about this?

When Raine appeared in the hall, standing in front of the place where Nicholas had positioned himself on the hall floor, she looked at the awaiting family with concern. "She's in preterm labor. We can delay it, but if we do, I worry about the health of the baby. I've tried to help the baby develop as much as I can with alchemy and medicine. She will probably have to spend some time in an incubator, but delivering tonight is our best option."

The two fathers shared a look before nodding numbly. "And Aideen?" Roy asked.

"It isn't going to be easy on her. I can't pretend it will, but we will do what we can. Preterm happens for a lot of pregnancies. The only thing we're concerned about is how quickly she's moving through the stages. This isn't going to be a long labor, for good or for bad."

"Is because of what Dante did?" Ed said, his voice harsh as it nearly spat the woman's name out.

"Probably," Raine answered. "She altered things about Aideen to ensure she got pregnant and prevented any traditional symptoms from showing up. We can't know what that could have done. I have to get back in there." She patted Ed's shoulder and took Roy's hand before heading back to the room where Aideen was currently in labor.

"Auntie?" Nicholas asked. "I was supposed to be with my sister."

Raine paused a moment, biting her lower lip. "Come on, Squirt. Let's get you scrubbed up. Having an extra alchemist there with your skills certainly can't hurt."

"I want to be there," Ed said, insistently.

"The room's full as it is. If she's got family in there other than me, it's got to be someone who can be of use. Sorry, Baby. Come on, Nicholas."

The teen nodded and jumped up from the floor to follow her out the door, leaving Roy with a very angry Ed who was far more mobile than he'd been a few months ago.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Ed asked no one. "That is my damned daughter in there! I'm not useless!"

Roy agreed, but from years as Raine's younger brother, he knew arguing with her was pointless. He also knew he could trust her to do the right thing. Though he wanted to be with Aideen through this as much as Ed, Roy's role would be restraining the smaller alchemist and preventing him from making a scene or blowing something up. Knowing words would only serve to infuriate the younger man more, Roy only wrapped his arms around Ed, holding the smaller man's back to his own chest, restraining him as he fought against Roy's grip.

"It's not fair!" Ed yelled. "Damn it! It's not fair."

"Ed," Roy said, his voice somewhere between chastising and soothing. "We have to wait. We just have to wait."

0o0o0o0

Fletcher knew his presence seemed strange compared to that of Aideen's family and the Armstrongs, but he simply couldn't bring himself to wait at home. He had to agree with Ed that waiting was hell. He wanted to be in there with her, wanted to be able to hold her hand, to at least be able to offer some kind of support for the young woman he was just starting a relationship with.

He watching the clock, his leg twitched with each tick of the second hand. Beside him, his brother had an arm wrapped around him, speaking in a low voice that normally wouldn't have been heard, but in the near silence of the waiting room, it practically ricocheted off the walls.

"She's strong, Fletcher," he said. "We both know she'll be fine."

Fletcher could only nod. How long had she been in there in labor? Was it nearly two hours now? How long was normal? And if it went too fast, would she be in danger?

Once again, Raine stepped out, blood on her scrub shirt; Aideen's blood. Fletcher felt as though he was going to be sick, but he wouldn't allow it. He waited to listen, his ears straining as she pulled the two fathers into the hallway and spoke in a hushed voice.

"…Cord is wrapped… to operate… a C-section…"

"Isn't there another option?" Ed asked.

"How dangerous is this?" That was Roy.

"Standard practice in cases … risks are few… will be… I'll take… of the Princess."

They were going to have to cut Aideen open. The cord was wrapped around Nikki.

And with that, Fletcher broke. He's been through so much with Aideen, always trying to find the positive. She had to be okay because he didn't want to consider the option. He had only just finally told her how he felt; they just now exchanged a few kisses, made plans for things to do after Nikki's birth. He'd allowed himself to think of a future with her, one where he would be as good as a father to Aideen's daughter. One where they could have a child of their own, but only if it wasn't a risk to Aideen.

Sitting next to his older brother, Fletcher's eyes began to fill with unshed tears. The tears flowed freely as Russell wrapped him tightly in both arms as he hadn't done since Fletcher was a child.

He bitterly laughed to himself and muttered. "So much for keeping this quiet."

0o0o0o0

Aideen knew she'd passed out at some point during the delivery, or after, she was so foggy she couldn't quite remember. She remembered the excruciating pain, doctors, nurses saying that she was bleeding, that there was no way she could easily survive this. She felt someone rubbing her arm, and she glanced over at the hand, following it up the arm to its owner. Nicholas.

"You want to see her?" Nicholas asked. Her? Who was "her?" Aideen blinked a few times, trying to understand what he was saying, understanding that for the first time in a month she was able to lay on her back without feeling like her insides were being squeezed out of her. She looked down at her stomach. It was flat, or mostly flat. It was sore, too.

"Aideen? You okay there?" Nicholas was rubbing her arm. "Do you want to see Nikki? She's here."

"My stomach. It hurts."

"The umbilical cord got twisted somehow. She's okay, but they were afraid it would choke her as they delivered her. You were on the verge of passing out from pain anyway. They had to cut her out. Auntie healed it as much as she could, but she said you're going to be sore."

She'd been operated on. That explained a little. She'd been put under anesthesia only a few times in her life, and she always felt sluggish afterward, as though nothing she heard or said made sense. "Nikki's here?

"Mm-hmm." He smiled at her. "She's a little thing, but she's here and she's healthy." She watched as Nicholas pushed a button above her. "To let Auntie know you're awake. The whole family's waiting to see you both. Well, they got to see Nikki through the glass, but not in person."

She followed him with her eyes as he crossed the room, moving to a glass or plastic container. An incubator, the less-foggy part of her mind supplied. He wheeled the thing over to Aideen's bedside, using alchemy to lower the legs enough that the young mother could see her child.

The baby was wearing a tiny pink anklet, her name written across it in blue ink. "Phillis Nichole Mustang." Aideen looked at the thin little body, the red little face and tiny bald head. This was her daughter.

"You can put your hands through the side to touch her. She likes touch." Nicholas smiled at Aideen, making it obvious that statement came from experience. Though she loved her brother, she felt somewhat indignant that he'd gotten to feel her daughter before she did. Aideen wondered, looking up at her scrunched up, red face, she wondered what color her eyes would be, whether her hair would be jet black or chocolate brown, possibly even blond. Her lips had the same bow shape as Aideen's, and at least in the small child, she could see that. She could see her claim on her baby.

"Hey, Rosebud," Aideen said, wondering at herself where Rosebud had come from and considered it some sort of Mustang trait to force nicknames upon friends and family. As she spoke, she kept her voice soft; she poked her hands through the side, seeing the faintest reaction from Nikki with each word and touch. "Says here on the side you were five pounds seven ounces. It sure felt like a lot more than that. What am I going to do with you if this is a sign of how impatient you're always going to be? Couldn't stand to miss your own party, could you?"

There was a knock on the door. "Mommy and baby doing okay?" Raine asked as she came in.

"Mommy feels like shit," Aideen said, still feeling strange with that idea. Mommy. "But I'm here. She's here."

"Yes she is," Raine said. "She's premature, but thankfully, tomorrow, I think you will be able to actually hold her for a while. She was surprisingly far developed for just over thirty-five weeks. As you can see, no need for tubes for the stubborn little one."

"Can we come in yet?" her dad demanded from outside.

"You want to see your obnoxious and pushy family?" Raine asked. Aideen nodded, trying not to chuckle too hard and aggravate her incision.

Raine no sooner stepped aside than two pairs of new grandparents came bursting into the room, carefully showering affection on her, then standing around Nikki's little incubator, a look of awe on all of their faces.

Then, Aideen heard her dad utter words she never thought she'd hear him, of all people, say about another. "She's so small."

"Whose daughter are you calling small?" Aideen asked defensively, but with a faint smile on her face.


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66 **

**_Happy Ending _**

****

**_Four Years Later_**

Roy was not quite deeply asleep when he heard the door to his bedroom opening. He was rallying slowly as he heard the gentle padding of little feet across the wood floor and then carpet of the room. He was only half-asleep as the foot of the bed dipped down with a new, slight weight. But when the weight very suddenly pounced on his chest and stomach, Roy was very much awake.

"It's morning, Grandpa!" the excited voice said from its place on his stomach.

"So I see." Roy looked around him. His husband was stretching with a smile across his face as his body faced Roy, arching like a cat. He looked back up at the naturally tan child laying on top of him, her eyes bright with excitement. "Is there some reason you've decided to wake me up, Runt?"

Like a bolt, the little girl with her brown ringlets jumped up, her feet straddling his stomach, already narrow gold eyes becoming little more than slits. "Who you calling a runt?"

"You," Roy answered.

Nikki opened her mouth to argue, only to squeal as Ed pulled her off of Roy. "Ignore him. He just likes to pick on people smaller than him." In unison Ed showed his maturity alongside their granddaughter as they both stuck their tongues out at him. "He just doesn't like it that he's old."

At that, Nikki looked confused, and turned her head to her granddad. "But you're old too."

And for the first time in Roy's memory, Ed was speechless. Roy, however had no difficulty finding his voice to laugh at his very surprised husband. Ed, seemingly even more insulted by Roy's reaction, began doing a very good impression of a fish. "To a four-year-old, Ed, you're old. Get over it."

"I'll show her who's old," Ed said as he grabbed Nikki and began tickling her until she was a mass of kicking legs and giggles. It was entertaining to watch the two interact, from Roy's perspective. They seemed to have been cut from the same mould; they had the same temper, the same sense of humor, the same mischievous tendencies, and the same chip on their shoulder about their height.

The girl was still small for her age, more often mistaken for a three-year-old than four. Occasionally, she even was mistaken for a two-year-old, and anyone who dared ask her if she was two to her face got an earful. Not only was she not two, she had the mind of a six or seven year old. Yet again, Roy's family had produced another prodigy, one who was reading, doing math with ease, and had a vocabulary beyond her years. It was also a very good thing she had adjusted well to stares and odd looks, between the fact that she'd already begun using alchemy without a transmutation circle and the simple fact of who her family was.

Then there was her hair. When it was pulled back into a ponytail, it wasn't really noticeable, but the chestnut curls had one white and one nearly entirely white curl nestled among them. They had no idea how the little patch of white hair appeared, but it had been there since birth.

"Stop!" the four-year-old shouted, laughing. Ed obeyed and brushed a few stray strands out of the girl's hair. "Are you two going to get up? I want breakfast." Then as an afterthought, she added. "Please."

The two men smiled, standing from bed, Ed holding out his arms so the little girl could leap into them.

"Well, I suppose we should see if the twins are up," Roy said.

"You know, at some point, you really have to stop talking about them like a single unit, Roy." Ed hugged the little girl tightly as they made their way into the hall, the two men in their pajamas, Nikki in her pale pink nightgown. "Nicholas is a major now and Aideen's just become a doctor. Calling them 'the twins' like they're still six just seems wrong."

"I know." Roy couldn't help it. It didn't matter that he was looking at his husband holding one of "the twins'" child. It didn't matter that he'd signed off of Nicholas's orders to eastern headquarters—one of the hardest things he'd ever done—or that his daughter who'd finished medical school a month before was going to ask him to present her at her wedding today—another of the hardest things he'd ever done.

Roy shook his head, actually afraid that over what should be a happy occasion, he might cry, and he just didn't cry over things like this.

"Can we wake up Uncle Nicholas?" Nikki said.

"Of course," Ed answered with a devilish smirk. Both men had been at the bachelor's party the night before and knew that while Roy had refrained and Ed had only had a bit of alcohol, Nicholas had managed to down more than his share before the two older men had left.

Roy smoothed down his hair as he watched Nikki playing with Ed's as they walked. Though the younger man cut quite a bit of it off, it still hung between his shoulder blades. Roy understood Ed wanting to get rid of something he saw as much too youthful for his age, but the older alchemist full-heartedly agreed when Nikki tried to convince Ed to let it grow just a little longer. Roy missed when Ed could still wear it in a long braid.

The three made their way down the hall, Nikki's olive-toned skin contrasting with the still rich gold of Ed's hair. Her hands threaded themselves in the loose locks as she hugged him tightly. Though neither of his children had been so affectionate, Nikki was always finding some way to hug or kiss and easily told those she cared about that she loved them, truly meaning it each and every time.

She looked so much like her father, save for her eyes and mouth, that there would have been no denying Phillip Armstrong's part in her creation if the family had wanted to. And looking back on their decision to explain how Nikki came to be, Roy was still amazed at how wise Aideen had been when she suggested the story simply be that they were immature teenagers afraid of the battles and possible future when they slept together. Roy had suggested they tell the press that Aideen had been under the influence of a drug and Phillip had not realized it; that story had been closer to the truth. However, it had been his daughter who'd insisted it wasn't fair to Phillip's memory. Now, looking at the innocent—mostly, anyway—life that was sliding back to the floor to open Nicholas's door, Roy couldn't imagine telling her that there had been any mistake in her creation, even if they would one day have to. Though, mistake was probably not the right word. Roy preferred surprise.

Nikki looked prepared to wake her uncle the same way she'd so "gently" roused him, but Roy grabbed her. It wasn't that he didn't think that Nicholas deserved this kind of a wake-up call after the way he'd been drinking the night before, but if he was also nauseous, as he might very well be, Roy didn't want him being sick on Nikki.

Roy put a hand on the small shoulder, watching as gold eyes the same color as her granddad's looked up at him. "Let's wake him nicely, okay, Rosebud?"

She looked a little put out, but agreed with a nod of her head that shook the mass of natural curl that was her hair. She took a few steps forward, nearing Nicholas's feet, and grabbed hold of one beneath the covers. "Uncle Nicholas," she said. "Time to wake up."

"Huh?" The blond head shifted at the pillow. "Oh, son of a—"

"Nicholas!" Ed said warningly.

"Oh, dad, not so loud."

"How much liquor did you have last night?" Ed asked. "And please tell me you didn't try to match Kain."

"No. I know how much that man can drink. I'm not stupid." He groaned again. "I feel like I'm blinking too loud. And I feel like I… Oh, crap!" Nicholas jumped out of bed and ran into his bathroom.

"Is Uncle Nicholas sick?" Nikki asked.

"He just had too much alcohol last night. Sometimes when people do that, they wake up sick the next morning."

"Eww." She screwed her little face up in response.

"Come on, let's see how your mommy's doing."

"'Kay." Nikki ran ahead of them to the floor she shared with Aideen, for at least a few more hours.

0o0o0o0

Russell had a mild hangover, and he had to wonder how the overenthusiastic Mustang was doing this morning. In the next room, he heard his brother on the phone.

"How are you feeling?" There was a pause. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. I know you're not going to leave me at the altar, so to speak."

Russell chucked from outside the door to the livingroom in the apartment that Russell would soon be living in alone. Fletcher sounded so confident at the moment, when just last night, he'd panicked about Aideen backing out on him, that she'd decide she didn't want to marry someone ten years older than her. It was sad that only two drinks and nagging worry had brought the younger brother to that point, but Russell had forced Fletcher to cut himself off. Anyone who saw Aideen when she was around Fletcher knew she loved him, and while Russell felt there was more going on with his little brother than he was saying, Aideen loving Fletcher was never something Russell worried about.

"Oh," Fletcher said, "sure, put her on."

Raising and eyebrow, the older brother stepped into the room.

"Hi, Nikki, how are you?" Russell watched as Fletcher smiled, only managing to get in the occasional "uh-huh" and "oh, really?" as the four-year old chattered away on the other side of the line. "So you're excited about the dress?" Again, only a few "uh-huhs" were uttered. "Oh, you'll do a good job. I'm sure of it." Then, something was said on the other end of the phone that made Fletcher smile, yet somehow still look shocked. "Well, what does your mommy say?" There was a pause. "Of course we wouldn't want you to forget him." Russell stepped closer. "But if that's what you want, that would make me very happy." Fletcher looked around until he spotted Russell, waving him over. "He's right here." Fletcher put a hand over the receiver. "Nikki wants to talk to her Uncle Russell."

Russell smiled. She'd adopted both Fletcher and him as uncles as soon as she could twist her little tongue around that word. "So what has you looking so happy and shocked?"

"She asked if I had to still be Uncle Fletcher or if it would be okay if she called me…" The grin that appeared on Fletcher's face couldn't be shaken by anything, despite his nervousness earlier. "Daddy"

"About time," Russell said, taking the receiver. "Hey, brat," he said, "you behaving yourself?"

"Yep," her voice said. "Did you hear? I can call him daddy now! Even though the wedding's in a coupl'a hours."

"So I heard. You really want my brother as your daddy?"

"Uh-huh. Then I can have two like mommy and Uncle Nicholas and Nina do." Russell rolled his eyes. Leave it to a child raised in that non-traditional family to think that way. "Wait 'til you see my dress, Uncle Russell. It's really, really pretty. It's red, but looks almost black with a red bow in the back. And I'm gonna wear my hair pulled up on top of my head with little rosettes in it. And the dress, you know I think it's even prettier than mommy's dress, and mommy's dress is beautiful."

Russell chuckled. Ed and Roy had a girly-girl on their hands with the vocabulary that would one day rival both grandfathers and an ability to spew out words at a speed met only by her granddad. Though, he had to admit that her attention span could use a little help. "Well, then I guess I'm going to have to see it at the wedding."

"It'll look really nice when I dance. Are you going to dance? Will you dance with me if you do?"

"Yeah, brat, I'll dance with you."

"Good. Mommy's getting ready for the wedding. Tell Daddy," And here she giggled at getting to use the word. "that she'll have to talk to him later, once they're married."

"All right."

"And don't forget you said you'd dance with me."

"Not a chance. Bye, brat."

"Bye." There was a rattling nearly capable of deafening Russell as she hung up the phone. As he put the receiver on the hook, he looked over at his little brother.

"So you're a father now?"

"Yeah," Fletcher said, still wearing that impossibly goofy grin on his face, but again, there was that flash of something in his brother's eyes that made Russell wonder what the hell else was going on.

"Well, we've got a few hours before you get yourself tied to a ball and chain," Russell said with a smirk to let Fletcher know he was kidding. "How about a very light breakfast?"

"I'm kind of hungry," Fletcher said.

"Yeah, but I'm hung over enough that I don't want to push it. And in a few hours, your stomach's going to be doing somersaults, if it isn't already."

0o0o0o0

Aideen sat at the Central Greenhouse in the makeshift changing room, rubbing her stomach.

"Butterflies?" her dad asked.

"With nine-foot wings," she answered, taking his hand in hers. "Where's papa?"

"Talking to Fletcher," her dad answered.

"Oh, no." There was no scenario where that would go well. Aideen immediately stood, feeling a little lightheaded at the quick movement, but covering it easily. It was helped by the fact that her dad put hands at both of her shoulders to stop her from doing anything rash.

"Relax, Aideen," he said. "Nikki went with him, so he will keep himself in check, if for nothing else than for her."

"You planned that when you had her go with him, didn't you?"

"I've been married to him for twenty-one years, I know him far too well." With a smile, he reached beneath the leather thong that held his hair in place and began unfastening the necklace that lay under his shirt. "I think we need to complete the Earth tradition properly, don't you?"

"Your necklace? Dad, I can't."

"I'm not giving it to you," he said, lips in a tight smile that seemed somewhere between happy and sad. "It's your borrowed item." He looped his arms around her neck as he re-fastened the familiar Flamel beneath the hair that he, himself, had put into an upside down braid. Aideen just hadn't been able to have someone braid her hair if it wasn't the person who'd done it since she was a little girl. "I'd like your memories of me to be as more than your hair stylist."

Feeling the still-warm metal against her chest, Aideen grabbed hold of her father and hugged him. There was still a very strong part of her that felt she didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her happy ending, so to speak, but she just couldn't help that she was exactly that: happy.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much."

"Don't you go crying on me," he said, his voice sounding as though he was ready to just as much as she was. "I might be able to braid your hair, even upside down, but I know nothing about make-up."

Aideen pulled away from her father and looked at the shoulder of his black suit. "I hope you at least know how to get it off of clothes," she said. "I think I messed you up."

"Eh, I don't matter. According to Winry, and Raine, and Elysia, and Gracia and every other person permanently possessing large amounts of estrogen, this is all about the bride." He clapped his hands together and transformed the makeup into a tiny clump he was able to flick off his shoulder. "Good as new." Taking off his left glove, her dad raised his hand to her eyes, wiping beneath each. "This is a good day, Aideen."

"I know. I'm happy, but—"

"There's no reason for a 'but' here, Aideen. I know the whole 'Daddy' thing this morning got you started on this. At this point, had he lived, Phillip would have found someone else, someone who he deserved and who deserved him. He was just too young for how mature you always were, Sweetie. And more than any of the rest of us did when we attacked him and accused him like raving lunatics, he knew he loved you the night Nikki was created. You never accused him of anything other than not knowing you well enough to tell the difference. If there was something to feel guilty about, Rose and both Alex Armstrongs wouldn't be out there right now to see you get married."

"Well, young Alex better be out there. Fletcher asked him to be an usher," she said, the faintest piece of a smile on her face.

The door opened, with her papa carrying her daughter on his shoulders. He ducked down, and with a yelp of surprise, Nikki grabbed hold of his face.

"Nikki, honey, you're going to have to let go of the eye. Only one works, and you're covering it," he teased. She slid her hands up to his forehead.

"Sorry, Grandpa."

With a slowness that had come as her papa had gotten older, he lowered Nikki to the ground. "Mommy, you look so pretty," Nikki said as she ran to Aideen, only to watch the little girl skid to a stop.

"Come here," Aideen said, holding out her arms.

"But your dress, mommy."

"Just watch your shoes." Aideen held out her hands and picked her daughter up under her arms, pulling the little child into her arms. She squeezed the little girl.

"Why are you crying? Did Granddad give you a talk like Grandpa gave Fletcher?"

"No. I'm just happy," Aideen said, knowing that trying to explain how many different things were behind the tears would be too complicated for the four year old. "Adults do that sometimes." Aideen shifted Nikki to her hip, kissing the tiny curls that refused to be bound in the girl's hair. "So, papa, how bad did you chew out my fiancé?"

"Not too bad, I swear. I told him that he had to be good for you, if he liked certain parts of his anatomy."

"Mm-hmm. Grandpa said he'd fry his butt if he did anything to hurt you." Aideen rolled her eyes, setting her daughter on the floor as she did. "Mommy, is that Granddad's necklace?"

"Yes. He's letting me borrow it."

"And you've got the blue earrings Grandpa made for you too."

"It's part of an Earth tradition Frank told us about," Aideen explained to her daughter, watching as the little girl stared at the makeup at the tiny counter. "Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue."

"Your earrings are blue. And the necklace is borrowed, right?"

"Yes, you're Granddad's probably going to make me give it back to him right after the wedding."

"The dress is new," Nikki said, looking at the makeup closely again. Among other things, Aideen's mind supplied, but she didn't say it aloud. "So what's old?"

Aideen told Nikki to step back as she pulled up the skirt of the two-piece dress. Attached to her thigh was a gun holster and a small derringer. "This was my mom's, but I don't have it loaded."

She lowered the dress again, grateful she had gone with one that was a looser fit and the ruffles, which allowed her to hide the holster. There was just something fitting about having that thing on her to remember her mother and how strong the woman was.

"Would you like a little make-up, Nikki?"

The gold eyes lit up as Aideen turned to the counter and grabbed the blush, putting it lightly on the little girl's cheeks. Then, Aideen grabbed a shade of pink lipstick that Elysia had borrowed and put it on the tiny bow-shaped lips. "Eye shadow too?"

"Eye shadow too." She laughed at her daughter and grabbed a gold and dusted it over the child's eyelids.

Once again the door opened. "I know, I know," Nicholas said as he came though. "I'm shirking on my ushering responsibilities, but I wanted to see you before the wedding."

"Look, Uncle Nicholas! Make-up!"

"Well, don't you look pretty," he said, crouching down to Nikki's level and giving her a quick peck on her forehead. He stood back up to wrap his arms around Aideen. "I can't believe you're going to be out of the house. It's going to be so quiet there."

"First of all, I'm only moving across the street. Second of all, you're headed to Eastern Headquarters, so you're not going to be there either."

"But I can still come over when I want, can't I Granddad? Grandpa?" Nikki asked, looking up at the two older men.

"Of course," Aideen's dad said, kneeling down to the girl's level.

"And you won't re-paint my room?"

"Never," her papa said, patting the little curly head. "Unless you ask us too."

"Cool!" Nikki said.

Nicholas hugged Aideen tightly before looking down at Nikki. "You know, I should learn by now that all the attention in this family goes to the females. First you, then Nikki," he said with a tone of mock hurt. Aideen smacked him on the shoulder, making him wince.

"You didn't get another one did you?"

"Last night, apparently," he said, looking sheepishly around the room. "Apparently, in my drunken state, I thought it was a brilliant idea to get a tattoo of my state alchemy name. So I heave a lion's head with a very odd heart behind it." Nicholas already had a tattoo of a Flamel wrapped in flames on the flesh portion of his left arm. "Victor said it was that or I was piercing my ears. For whatever reason, when I was drunk that also sounded like a brilliant idea."

"Here's an idea, Nicholas," Aideen said. "Stop drinking, and the self-mutilation will probably stop too."

"Bite me, sis." Still, he kissed her on the cheek. "Love you and good luck, congratulations and all that."

"Love you too. Now, get back out there and help Alex with ushering duties."

Black eyes rolled as Nicholas walked out of the room.

"Mommy, can I get a twin like Uncle Nicholas after you get married?"

Aideen paled, looking at her fathers out of the corner of her eyes.

"That's rushing things a bit, Rosebud," her dad said. "And it won't be a twin. It will be a little brother or sister, like your cousin Sasha has."

"Oh." Again, the amber eyes looked up at her mother. "Then, can I have a little brother or sister?"

"We'll have to see."

"You don't get one of those overnight," Aideen's papa said.

"That's right," Aideen told the little girl, kissing her on her forehead as the door opened once again. This time Elysia Hughes—because of a financial scandal on her father-in-law's part, both Elysia and her husband had taken the name Hughes and moved back to Maes and Roy's hometown where they could still find work as accountants—leaned her head in.

"Matron of honor here letting you know that it's time."

0o0o0o0

Frank sat beside his husband, their hands clasped together, both waiting for Nina. She was the first of the bridesmaids and would be the first to walk over the path of slate and stone that made up the greenhouse walkway. Frank had to admit that this ceremony, held in a place so important to Fletcher, not to mention its meanings for Aideen, was already a touching idea. When he and Kain had married, it had been done quickly, with just their closest friends to witness the ceremony, as they had gotten married largely to prevent either of them from being reassigned to an area apart from the other.

This wasn't the massive event it could have been, but it wasn't small by any stretch of the imagination. The former prime minister of Creta was in attendance, along with the now-infamous grandson and his husband. Frank had thought it was rather amusing when Nicholas had run into the young man he'd snogged senseless against a brick wall those years ago. He was obviously surprised that said man was married, and when Victor unintentionally got added into the mix, stumbling into Nicholas's conversation, trying to read what was going through the military engineer's mind was difficult. There seemed to be a lot going on there, a lot that Frank guessed was based on Nicholas's suspicions from years before.

At the groom's side were friends of Fletcher's from his work in Ishbal over a year ago, some of them Ishballan, and all seemingly surprised at the welcome reception they received from the military present. There were obviously members of the greenhouse staff, a few soldiers who had served along with the thin blond, and some old friends from his hometown.

While Frank and Kain could have been on either side, both leaned toward sitting on the bride's, where they currently were situated, Frank's view blocked somewhat by a sobbing Armstrong. Both he and Rose were in the row directly in front of where the British man sat. The former prime minister sat next to them along with his family. The Havoc/Hughes family was also there, as were Breda and Victor. At the front, Falman and Raine sat, watching as Juliana returned from her duties as greeter at the door.

Then four figures in black suits came through the greenery, moving their way closer to the front. Fletcher looked sick, to be perfectly honest as he was guided to the front by his brother—as it was apparently the norm for both parties to be presented by their parents or close family in a traditional alchemist wedding—who was also serving as his best man. Then, from the other side of the arboretum section of the greenhouse, Nina, in her long redish-black dress, walked toward the front, a pleased grin on her face when she met Frank's eyes—all that could be seen above Armstrong's shoulder. She was followed by Elysia Hughes and by Sasha Elric, matron and maid of honor. Then, Nikki stepped forward, holding onto Michael Hughes's hand as she all but pulled him down the path, tossing flower petals as she did, Michael gripping onto the pillow where the two rings rested so tightly the thing hardly resembled the square it once had. At one point, Nikki looked up at her grandparents, waving her little arm off to the Armstrongs, shaking lose a few dozen petals in the process from her pouch. And then, Aideen could be seen leaving the waiting area, Roy and Ed flanking her with identical expressions of happiness, nausea, worry, and sadness. The young woman, from what Frank could manage to see, looked very pretty in the flowing white dress, having forgone a veil for rich red roses and little fire flowers in her hair. It was hard to imagine that this woman was the same girl who'd welcomed him to Amestris so readily. This woman before him was now Dr. Aideen Mustang, a mother, and a renowned alchemist and researcher. She was also head-over-heels for the man who awaited her at the front of the room, a man who had waited four years for her to figure out exactly who she was and what she wanted to do with herself before marrying her. The ceremony began with a wizened old alchemist presiding over everything. "Who presents these two as they prepare to join their lives together?" the man asked. "I, Russell Tringham, present my brother, Fletcher Tringham." Russell then moved back to his place as best man. "We, Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, present our daughter, Aideen Mustang." The two men obviously struggled with that single sentence, nearly as much as they struggled with the idea of moving to their seats once it was said. "Take one another's hands," the elder alchemist said. Aideen and Fletcher held out their hands, one facing palm up, one facing palm down. "As your right supports your loved one's left, so will you support them in life. What words to you bring with you today to exchange to your future partner?"

Fletcher started to open his mouth, but stumbled, and it was obvious that Aideen's fingers brushing over his wrist were an attempt to calm the older man. "I was not the first to realize that I was in love with you, but I feel as though I always have been on some level, as I unconsciously did everything in my power to see you happy, to see you smile."

As though out cue, Aideen flashed a small but genuine smile at the blond man. "You were my first crush, and though every part of me said to ignore it, to make my feelings for you go away, nothing worked. If anything my feelings grew with each attempt to squash them."

"You are beautiful, and you more than anyone, know that I don't mean that as only outward beauty. I have always been drawn to that inner beauty you possess, whether it's the soft, gentle manner you have in so many things in your life or the temper that cannot be described as anything but fiery."

"You are kind above all things, and even when I feel less than myself," Aideen's eyes stared intently at Fletcher's to make this point clear. "you have always known. You taught me how to regain myself when I felt lost."

The two would continue this until each had discussed five points of their love for the other person. It was considered an equivalent exchange between the two parties, as were the hands matching one another in their support and dependence.

All the while, Frank could feel Kain's hand in his own, their arms pressed against one another. At one point, he looked down at his husband, meeting those overly large brown eyes before leaning closer to kiss the other man lightly. What was it about weddings that made him think about how damned lucky he was?

"And now, the rings," the officient said. Michael approached, holding up the pillow with the two silver rings resting on top. "May these two objects serve as a symbol of your love and your realization of the trade, the give and take, that is marriage."

Fletcher was first to move his hands to grasp the thinner of the rings and slide it over the pale feminine hand offered him. The man's hands were shaking so badly that Frank questioned how, exactly, Fletcher had managed to slip the ring over the first knuckle, but moving enough to see around one bulging, muscular shoulder, he could see Aideen's hand on Fletcher's wrist, guiding him. When it was her turn, Aideen seemed much steadier than her nearly-husband, getting the ring onto his fingers, but needing his help to slide it completely in place.

"May we welcome Fletcher and Aideen as they two have become one."

And with that, the crowd stood, applauding, as the two alchemists, in a show of their shared alchemy, placed their hands to the vine-covered trellis. The once green and white trellis was now covered largely in red as roses budded and bloomed. Aideen smiled at him, obviously proud that without the negative energy and emotions of Dante, her ability to perform plant alchemy had increased as much as it had in medicine.

"You may now show your affection for one another."

Both smiled as they held one another tightly, kissing far more passionately than Frank would have expected from the previously anxious Fletcher. They were an odd contrast to one another as Aideen stood with her black hair and white dress and Fletcher with his blond head and black tux. There were a million reasons why they wouldn't work together, but the most important fact was that they did.

0o0o0o0

The reception was held in one of the halls nearby, and dinner had gone remarkably well, in Nicholas's opinion at least. Feeling he was being watched, Nicholas scanned the crowd below him, finding a pair of brown eyes staring at him intently. He hadn't seen Victor face-to-face in about eight months, hell there was no "about" about it. Nicholas knew damned well how long it had been since he'd really gotten to see his friend. It had been eight months and three days.

For some reason Nicholas now found himself poking at his food, trying not to meet Victor's eyes. Something was different about his friend, and it was unnerving. Nicholas was damned glad Victor was on his side, a fellow military man, or he'd have been screwed. He couldn't remember being this distracted by anyone, let alone someone who he'd known all his life.

Thankfully, Victor's intent gaze broke when Nikki came running from the head table where she'd been seated by her mother to go to her "Mum-mum and Papap." Really, Nicholas was amazed each and every day by the good that the little girl had done for his family, for all their families. She linked them all together with her easy nature and open affection. It was strange to see his old friend in his niece's face every time he looked at it, but it was far stranger when her behavior mimicked Nicholas's dad perfectly.

There was a signal from the Armstrongs that they would just have Nikki eat with them, letting Aideen have the time with Fletcher. Nicholas was certain his parents would have done the same, but Nikki had run to the Armstrongs first, and they were all seated around the same table.

Nikki was pulled into a seat that the elder Alex transfigured to bring the small girl to the table. She watched in awe, asking her papap how he'd done it, what the circle had been that he'd drawn, and could he show it to her. True, Nicholas couldn't make out the words, but he knew his niece's fascination with alchemy first-hand, and those questions were standard protocol any time alchemy was used around the miniature Mustang.

Dinner went well enough, as Nicholas made conversation with Elysia, grateful that he could now manage to talk to his own first crush without blushing like an idiot or flirting himself into an awkward situation. It didn't matter to him that she was older than him. He still thought she was one of the most beautiful women he'd seen, even as her four-year-old unintentionally messed up the red dress trying to get her attention. He and Elysia had entered an easy friendship, and Nicholas readily accepted it.

"Mommy, Daddy tol' me I had to ask you if I'm 'lowed to have cake."

"How much of your vegetables did you eat?"

The little boy pushed the wire-rimmed glasses on his nose and looked up at her with his cat-green eyes. "A couple."

"If you finish all the green beans and carrots, then you can have your cake."

The little boy smiled and ran back to his daddy. "You seem very happy, Elysia."

The older woman smiled. "I am." She smiled at Nicholas. "So, is there anyone special in your life at the moment?"

"No," he answered, though he once again felt the brown eyes on him.

"Well, I hope you manage the kind of luck I've had. You're too good a guy not to."

"Thank you," he said as they prepared for the cake.

"Still your favorite part?"

"Cake? Yes, though I don't quite get the sugar high I used to."

"Well, that's good, then. You used to be a handful when you'd get like that."

"Really?" came a voice from Nicholas's right: Nina. Nicholas smiled. Nina had a certain fascination with finding out little details about him. Really, Nicholas thought that once he stopped being her teacher, the teen seemed to love finding out that he was actually human.

"Oh, yeah," Elysia said. "He used to get very hyper and never seemed to know when to stop."

Nicholas rolled his eyes, and he leaned back as Elysia elaborated. The young teen with the large violet eyes took in all of her words.

Thankfully, Elysia hadn't completely ruined his reputation before Russell stood, clanking a glass, offering his toast to the new couple.

"Okay, as best man, I guess I get the dubious honor of public speaking," Russell said. "All I can say is that I watched these two fall in love before they even realized it, and now that they have finally recognized how perfect they are for one another, I couldn't be happier. I have always been proud to call Fletcher my brother and can only say that nothing makes me happier to officially welcome Aideen as my sister." He waved to the crowd. "And Nikki, my niece. Let's just wish them all the best in the world as they start their life together."

There was applause as Fletcher took Aideen's hand in his own as they both stood and made their way to the cake. They managed to behave themselves, though Aideen seemed tempted to stick it in his face. Then the cake was passed out to everyone, Aideen apparently requesting that Nicholas be given a piece of chocolate cake with extra icing on top. He smiled at her from the table in gratitude.

It didn't matter that he'd passed the state alchemy exam a month before, becoming the Lionheart Alchemist. There would probably always be a part of the blond man that would appreciate a good piece of cake and plenty of sugar. As his new state alchemist name crossed his mind, Nicholas still couldn't believe his stupidity in getting the thing tattooed on his arm. His sober self still hadn't decided whether he liked the name or not. It came from a king in Frank's world and became his Auntie's name for him after he'd saved Aideen. But to know that _everyone_ in the military would be referring to him that way seemed odd. He had actually considered petitioning his papa to change it, but he supposed if he'd managed to put it into his skin, he was stuck with it.

Those thoughts aside, he found he was getting anxious for the party to begin. Dancing, music, and all those lovely, single, young people in the crowd in front of him. Smiling to himself, he wondered how there were people in the world who limited themselves to only enjoying one over the other.

He ate the cake, chatting with Nina this time about school and her fathers. She talked enthusiastically with him, explaining what she'd learned, the circle-less alchemy she seemed to be able to do more and more of as her humanity was well-established.

"Of course, I still say things that people don't understand, and the kids talk about things that I just don't get, but it's getting better."

"That's good," Nicholas said, patting her hand. "You'll have to show me your alchemy sometime."

"Thanks." She looked down at her chest, where just the faintest ridge of the oroborous could be seen, trying to shift the dress up to cover it. "Though, I still get picked on for this. People think I got a tattoo, but I've always had it. They just don't believe me."

"Is it girls making these comments?" Nicholas asked her.

"Yeah," the teen said.

"Nina, I'd take bets they're jealous. You're very pretty, mysterious—and that's not something many teenage girls can really say about themselves—and you have an unusual mark on your chest. Tell them it's a tattoo. Let them think whatever they want, and when you're old enough to, show that thing with pride. You are the second homunculus in recorded history to manage to become human on her own. Even if they don't know it, you and I do."

Honestly, Nicholas thought Nina was sweet; odd, but sweet. Since he'd started preparing for the state alchemy exam, he hadn't gotten to see her that often, and he missed his time teaching her, not only about the basics like reading and math, but about the simple things. Watching her see something for the first time was always entertaining. It was the same way with Nikki, but more expected in the small child.

After chatting with Nina for a while longer, the plates were cleared from the table, and Nicholas took his leave of the bridal party to make his way to two young women and a very good-looking man he'd been subtly monitoring from his position at the head of the room. Obviously, he had obligations to his friends and family, but he'd learned from experience to find out possible relationships and attachments of all possible targets, so to speak, of his interest. Knowing early prevented messy situations later. Much as he tried, his infinite charm only managed to dissuade one angry boyfriend of a young woman with the talk of a threesome. Others just glared at him or actually took a swing at him for the suggestion as though it was his fault their girlfriend was willing.

As he approached the three attractive young people, he considered that tonight he could very well have whoever he wanted, given the high emotions that a wedding evoked, but Nicholas wasn't one to sleep with someone he didn't know—only four, well five if you counted both the girl and her boyfriend. However, Nicholas had been out of a three-month relationship with his ex-girlfriend for nearly a month and had already had the obligatory rebound who was terrible for him. Perhaps re-entry into the real world would be a good idea.

He began chatting up the three, finding out that one of the girls was engaged, a commitment Nicholas wasn't even going to attempt getting in the way of. The other two were blissfully single.

Nicholas was about to tell the three he'd talk to them later so that he could mingle with his friends and family when a familiar arm found its way to Nicholas's shoulders.

"Nicholas," Victor said, "are you behaving yourself?"

"Of course I am," the blond answered.

"Well, usually when you're off flirting, you get yourself in trouble." The arm around him was tight, making Nicholas squirm slightly.

"Oh, well, have you at least learned how to do it?" Nicholas teased. "Back in school, he was given a rating of six by the girls for his flirting ability. And, let's see, what was it in kissing?" Nicholas asked, eyebrow raised in true Mustang fashion. "Wasn't it a two?"

"That was a very long time ago," Victor said, turning enough to meet Nicholas's eyes. "I've improved."

"Not that long ago. You talk like we're ancient. I bet kissing you is still the same as practicing on your hand." Somewhere, a little voice in his head was telling Nicholas not to push this. Their biggest fights came from when Nicholas would tease his long-time friend over the one joking kiss they'd shared. "Have you at least figured out how to respond to a kiss?" Why wasn't he listening to that voice?

With a fierce strength that Nicholas really should have expected from the man who not only was an engineer but mechanic in the military, Victor tugged Nicholas a few steps away from the three he'd been flirting with.

"You tell me." And faster than the trained fighter and alchemist could respond, he found two thick calloused hands grabbing his face, a set of lips mashing themselves to his, nibbling on Nicholas's bottom lip. Nicholas's mind clouded for a moment, then considered that Victor had definitely improved. Victor pulled away. "Now who's the one not responding?"

Inky black eyes narrowed before Nicholas was all but pouncing on his long time friend, moving him out the nearby doors and onto a balcony. Victor was about two inches taller and several inches thicker through the chest, but it didn't stop the blond from slamming the dark-haired man against the wall and assaulting the mouth just above his own. His hand found its way to his friend's head of soft curls, feeling Victor's rough hands rubbing at Nicholas's back, the other at the short hairs at his neck. Nicholas's automail hand was now curling so tightly into his friend's lapel, he feared he might rip it.

Two mouths opened, two tongues fought. Teeth nipped at lips, scraped against one another. When they finally moved apart for need of air, Nicholas pulled their foreheads together, looking into the brown eyes. "I thought you were straight."

"I am, except for you, apparently." The two stood, breathing hard, foreheads still touching. "I couldn't figure it out at first. I notice other men, but I never thought about doing anything with them. I didn't know why the hell it bothered me that you could. Then, my bunkmate in Southern Headquarters pointed out that I might be jealous that it's not with me." Victor lightly kissed Nicholas's lips. "He was right. But I wasn't pouring all that out in a letter or in a phone call."

"I seriously doubt that would have translated via phone." Nicholas pulled their lips together again. "I am just that damned irresistible, am I?"

Victor began moving down the blond's jaw. "I hope you can make yourself a bit more resistible. I've found I'm a very jealous man, and if you're willing to see where this goes…"

"Fine, but don't think it means you can order me around."

"Wouldn't do any good anyway." Victor moved to whisper in Nicholas's ear. "If it did, we wouldn't have gotten in so much trouble as kids."

The two began to kiss again, this time, Victor pressing Nicholas against the wall, only to be interrupted by the voice of a former homunculus. "That's hot."

"Nina!" Kain yelled.

Nicholas just grinned at the slightly taller man. "I have to agree with her, though."

0o0o0o0

Somewhere among the crowd, Ed lost sight of his daughter. He saw Fletcher talking with Russell, and he'd already witnessed the interesting display his son and Victor Lombardi had put on. It was about damned time. Roy was holding Nikki as he swayed to the music that began to play. As he danced with the small girl, the Armstrongs moved next to them, talking as they danced.

Ed couldn't help the snort of laughter. All these years, Roy had dreaded the idea of being related to the Armstrongs, and here they were, very much related. Not once had Ed heard his husband complain about the family relationship. As a matter of fact, Roy seemed to enjoy having an alchemist his own age to talk to, and Armstrong had mellowed, either with age or with Phillip's death no one knew. He just seemed somewhat less obnoxious than he had when Ed had first known him, but still distinctly Armstrong.

Ed looked for a sign of the bride, walking by Frank and Kain, who were in a very familiar position for the couple, Frank at the back, Kain at the front, Frank's arms draped over the smaller man, whose hands held onto Kain's.

"If you're looking for the vanishing bride," Frank said, "I believe she went that way." He jerked his head to the right.

"Thanks," he said with a smile to the two men. Ed didn't really know what fates, or whatever you want to call it, decided those two would work together, but miraculously, they did. He made his way to the hall where Aideen was returning from the ladies room, looking a little green. Immediately, Ed's worst fears came to mind.

"Aideen?"

She smiled at him. "Hi, Dad? Was I missed?"

"By me." He moved toward her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "How are you feeling now that you're a married woman?"

"Strange, happy, worried that I'll screw it up."

"Well, you know our house is always welcome to you if you decide to storm out in an angry fit, and it's always there if you need it for longer than that." He squeezed his daughter against him. "I just hope it's never necessary."

"So do I," she said. "But the same goes for you. If you decide you don't want to keep going over Uncle Al's when you get mad at Papa, we're just across the street."

"Knowing our husbands the way I do, I'd say I'm more likely to take you up on your offer than you on mine." Ed pulled his daughter into a quiet area away from the guests. "Aideen," he said, his tone serious, "are you prepared for the more… intimate… aspect of married life?"

Considering what his daughter had been through, Ed expected surprise, concern, anything but laughter.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said, kissing his head like he was the child in this situation. "It's just, well, you gave me one very humiliating talk about the 'birds and the bees,' and…" Aideen's fair face flushed. "And, Fletcher and I have been together for four years, even when we weren't both in Central. We decided a while ago to try to move slowly enough that I could be comfortable." She began to wring her hands together. "We've already been… together."

Ed looked up at his daughter in shock, but supposed he understood. It would have been horrifying if tonight was her first time since Dante had used her to be with Phillip. "Well, then one of my worries for you today is pointless, isn't it?" he asked with a smile.

Aideen leaned down and hugged Ed so tightly, he didn't think she would ever let him go. But, he knew she would, that in the figurative sense, she already had today joining her life not to her parents but to the man she loved.

"Dad, I only hope that I can have half what you and Papa do and that as a parent and spouse, I can be at least that much as good as you have been."

"You are already an amazing parent, Aideen. Nikki is an incredible little girl, well adjusted, with personality to spare."

"Your personality," Aideen added as she continued to hold Ed, head resting on his shoulder.

"Maybe." Then, Ed did the hardest thing he'd thought he'd have to do. He let go. "I'm sure Fletcher's looking for you." Aideen only smiled and kissed her father on the cheek.

Together, he walked back into the main hall, passing by Kain, who was dancing with Nina when they heard a bit of a commotion coming from the other part of the dance floor, apparently involving Nicholas, Russell, Victor and about three young women who'd come with their parents.

"I'm not above hitting a woman," Nicholas said with a scowl.

"But giving up on dating them," one of the women spat out.

"I'm equal opportunity. Though I don't date worthless, petty cats." The woman tried to smack him across his face, but her wrist was grabbed by Nicholas's dark-haired friend.

"Personally," Russell said, those gray-green eyes narrowing on the young woman, "I would recommend that you leave this place now. If you have issues with the bride then you have no business being here. Fortunately for the world, Aideen is not as immature and petty as the three of you, and she is a brilliant girl beyond her years. It is little wonder she never managed to find anything in common with women her own age if they are as empty-headed as you three. And if you want to make comments about 'why she had to marry' my brother, I recommend you do it from outside this building. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

By the time Ed made it through the crowd with Aideen in tow, Victor was already ushering the three women out.

Aideen smiled faintly and pulled Russell close enough she could kiss him on his cheek. "My hero."

"Anytime. You're family."

"What about me?" Nicholas asked.

"My hero, too," Aideen said, kissing her brother on his cheek. "Though I only heard you defending yourself and insulting them."

"He told them off, believe me," Russell said. "I'm just sorry that had to go on today."

Ed watched his daughter as she shrugged. "It's not new."

He took her hand in his, saying nothing as he rubbed over the smooth skin she'd inherited from her other father. There was hurt in her eyes, and he wanted to take that away. On this day of all days, she deserved to be happy.

Fletcher was through the crowd by that point. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he said, his voice actually sounding as angry as Ed felt. "Frank felt it necessary to hold me back before I did something stupid."

Aideen only ran her knuckles over his cheek. "He was probably right." She slid her hand down to Fletcher's before kissing Ed and releasing her hold on him. "Let's find some place private we can talk to one another and you can calm down."

Ed watched her go, as she looked over at Fletcher, her eyes lighting up in a way that a few years ago, Ed would have thought was impossible. He had done that for her.

0o0o0o0

"I can't believe those women said those things about you!" Fletcher yelled out to Aideen, but not really once they had reached a quiet alcove in the hallway. He'd heard some of it. A few of the things were about being loose as a teenager, others were that no one her age wanted her and she had to resort to being with someone ten years her senior.

"Fletcher," she said, holding his face in her soft hands. "Are any of them true?"

"Of course not."

"Then don't let them ruin this day, okay?" She smirked. "Besides, you didn't notice me touching each of their arms as they passed, did you?"

"No, what did you do?"

"Gave them an increase in nasty bacteria that will give them diarrhea for a week."

Fletcher shook his head. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Aideen pulled Fletcher the inch distance between their heights until their lips were against one another's. The kiss was soft and gentle, though the two had shared more than enough passionate ones. "Have I told you in the last ten minutes how much I love you?" she asked.

"Nope. Love you too, you know." As they stood like that, barely an inch apart, Fletcher felt his anger melt away.

"Where did you disappear to?" he asked, looking into those unusual eyes.

"Bathroom," she said with a faint sigh.

"Just as bad as last time?" He held her in his arms, enjoying the feel of her there, the weight of her head on his shoulder.

"No, thankfully. Just a nasty smell triggered… things." She pulled back from him. "I want to give you your wedding present here." She began pulling on the top piece of her dress.

"You smuggled a television under there? I've been dying to get one of those."

"No, I'm smuggling enough under here," she said, a look of mock exasperation on her face.

"Speaking of that, exactly when are we going to tell your parents that the dress isn't the only new thing that you had at the wedding. I'm fairly sure that the fact we've kept it from them this long will mean my death."

"Does two and a half months count as new?" she asked, absentmindedly, as she slowly pushed down the skirt of her dress, showing him a transmutation circle drawn on her lower stomach over the scar that remained from Nikki's birth. "Fletcher, I really wanted you to make it long enough for us to get married. Otherwise, how can I collect the insurance?" She was teasing, but at the moment, Fletcher was too shocked by what she seemed to be asking him to do.

"Aideen, shouldn't your aunt or brother do this? I don't have much experience…"

"Fletcher, you can't hurt anything. At worst, you won't be able to tell."

Biting his upper lip, Fletcher pressed his hands to the white transmutation circle. His mind suddenly filled full of things, some he couldn't understand without the medical experience of his new wife or her family. But one thing, two bits of information came through: everything was okay, and "It's a boy," he said in awe.

"What's a boy?" A deep voice asked. Fletcher quickly pulled Aideen's dress back in place and turned to face his elder father-in-law. "Really, I hope to find out that medical alchemy has advanced to detect that immediately and at some point between the hundred foot walk between the greenhouse and here you managed to conceive something. Because otherwise, I have a very big reason to be angry."

"With the insanity of the wedding," Aideen said, "yes, we kept this from everyone."

"Kept what from everyone?" This time, it was her dad. "Roy, I told you to let them alone for a few minutes."

"Kept the fact that you're going to have a grandson in about six and a half months," Aideen said, taking Fletcher's hand and gripping it tightly.

"You what!?" Ed yelled out. "I feel like such an idiot for having that conversation with you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Or why didn't _you_?" Roy asked Fletcher, pointedly.

"She told me not to until after the wedding. Until everything had settled down."

"And you just obeyed?" Roy asked, still eyeing him darkly as Fletcher nodded. Then, the fuhrer's attention focused on Aideen. "Good, you've got him trained. It took Ed a few years to get me to that point."

Ed was still ranting, but for whatever reason, the in-law that Fletcher had been fearing most seemed to be the one least fazed by the whole thing.

"Congratulations," Roy said, actually hugging the new couple.

"Oh, hell, no one's listening to me, are they?" Ed asked.

"No," Aideen and Roy answered in unison. Fletcher might have as well, but he wasn't going to mess with a man with a metal arm and a nasty temper either.

"Well, then, what the hell, congratulations."

0o0o0o0

Roy held Nikki on his lap, looking over at Ed as they were driving back to the house. Aideen and Fletcher had taken a late flight to the beach where they'd be spending their honeymoon. Victor and Nicholas had disappeared, both talking animatedly, sharing touches that showed to the world that they were now more than friends almost as much as the kiss they'd shared in the dance hall. The parents of the teenagers and pre-teens were still trying to convince their respective children they needed to go home. Al had reluctantly allowed Sasha to leave with James Havoc, while his other four children returned home with him. Russell had been talking to a young woman at the hall when Roy had left; though it didn't seem like anything serious would ever come of it, it was a start.

Ed opened the door for Roy as he slid out cradling the sleeping girl in his arms. She had both her hands tucked beneath her chin, her eyes closed as she faintly huffed once or twice in his arms, but remained sleeping. Ed continued to open the doors as they made their way into the house.

Roy followed behind the smaller alchemist as he climbed both flights of stairs and made their way to the third floor. They walked through Aideen's room, former room, and walked to Nikki's. Ed went to the bureau at the side of the room while Roy laid the girl on the bed. He began unbuckling the black shoes and pulling off the little black hose. Ed walked over with a nightgown and Roy carefully pulled off the dark red dress and helped Ed put the purple nightgown over the little girl's head. As Roy guided the sleeping girl up to the pillow, Ed pulled the blankets over her. She snuggled into the warmth of the blankets, and both her grandfathers leaned down to kiss her forehead before going down to their room, leaving the doors open behind them.

"She was out cold," Ed said in a hushed voice when they got to their bedroom.

Roy quietly shut the door while both men quickly got into their pajamas. "She was." Roy shook his head. "I can't believe we're going to be grandparents again."

"I can't believe it's not Nicholas's." Ed laughed at his own joke. They both climbed into bed, Roy unfastening Ed's shoulder blade-length hair. "It's going gray you know," Ed said. "What will you do when it's as white as yours?"

"Make you shave it off, I suppose," Roy joked as he pulled their blankets over them. "And if you take me seriously on that, you'll be the one sleeping on the couch." Roy threw his arm around Ed and pulled him close.

"Never," Ed answered, allowing himself to snuggle—if Roy would dare to call it that—into Roy's arms. "I love you, you know."

"I know." Roy meshed their legs together, trying to dwell more on Ed than on his daughter's marriage. He nuzzled his nose into the lightening blond hair to hear Ed clearing his throat. "I love you too."

Damn, twenty-two years ago, Roy would never have thought he'd have gone to bed each night in this man's arms. Now, It was hard to imagine any other option, honestly, hard to imagine even Riza, in his arms this night. Just the thought made him half-sick.

"Roy," Ed said. "Roy you're squeezing me to death."

"Sorry, just glad to have you here."

The door creaked open, and little footsteps made their way to the foot of the bed. A curly head, still with a few rosettes in her hair, appeared, hands rubbing at her eyes.

"Nikki, hon, what is it?" Ed asked, pulling out of Roy's embrace.

"I woke up and I was all alone. I forgot where Mommy was." She looked up at her two grandfathers. "Can I sleep here?"

"Of course," Roy said, holding out his hands to pick the girl up and lay her between himself and Ed.

"Night Grandpa, night Granddad. Love you."

"We love you too," Roy said.

"Yes we do."

Both men hugged onto the girl between them, their legs twined together.

"Good night, Roy."

"Goodnight Ed."

**THE END**

_Thank you all again for reading this monster fic_


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